


Into the Bright Night

by KaelsMiscellany



Series: Iron Soul (Earth-78) [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Doctor Who (2005), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Banter, Bruce tries to be a good dad, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick and Jason being best bros, F/M, Gen, Jason Todd book nerd, Jason is aro and sometimes confused, M/M, POV Second Person, actual bisexual mess Dick Grayson, batfam, but keeps too many secrets, fusionverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 83,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: Welcome to Earth-78, a DC earth like many others. Except on this one Jason Todd was never born. A young boy by the name of Jason Pond on the other hand has just fallen into it through a crack in time and space.It might change the way things are, but it doesn’t always change what will be...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome all to my first big foray into writing Batfam, it should be an interesting ride and I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> If you're looking at that long list of characters and wondering how this is a Doctor Who crossover if no one from Doctor Who actually appears in it, my beta suggested I err on the side of caution, especially since in later parts of the series Doctor Who will play a bigger part. However in this part only minor mentions of people and places from Doctor Who will appear so you're good if you don't know anything about it.
> 
> I do want to thank my beta [BirdyMarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdyMarie/pseuds/BirdyMarie) though, they've been pretty damn awesome and I'm grateful for all the help they've given.
> 
> Finally the title comes from "Dream State" by Son Lux.

You have no idea where you are. Part of your mind tells you that you already knew this. It’s the same part that is telling you you’re eleven, which is absurd because a few days ago you’d been ten. When your fingers reach out for your sister's they find nothing. Your eyes fly open and dart around looking for her. All you see is a dirty alleyway filled with trash. Your heart pounds and your mind reaches out for something that is no longer there.

You quickly abandon the alleyway, but the street is just as dilapidated and empty. It does have one advantage over the alley—windows. It takes you a moment to realize that the boy looking back is you. Your red hair hangs dull and limp and your face is covered in freckles, which somehow makes your brown eyes stand out, now that you've noticed them so are your arms and legs. It’s like you've been dunked in glue, then in chocolate sprinkles. You lick your finger, run it over your cheek, then lick it again. You don’t taste like chocolate.

The more you look, the more you realize that you _are_ eleven. A whole year has gone missing and that scares you. You finally tear yourself away from your reflection and continue down the street, you need to find an adult and get them to take your back to your sister. To a place where the world doesn’t feel wrong, wrong, wrong.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts you don’t notice the group of people in the street until you run into them. You try to apologize, but it comes out as a croak. This causes a ripple of laughter amongst them.  The guy you ran into smiles in a very frightening way. “Looks like we found ourselves a frog.” You tense as a knife is drawn.

You bolt, not bothering to check where you’re going. Footsteps that aren't yours echo behind. Left, right, straight, it doesn’t matter where you turn, they seem to be only a few steps behind.

The chase ends when you hit a dead end. Lungs heaving, you turn around. The gang's all there, all with weapons in their hands. You stare at them resentfully, you never even got to meet your parents.

A flutter of cloth breaks the silence. Out of nowhere, a brilliant ball of color leaps at the ranks of the gang and fists start flying, a larger, darker blur joining the fray. It’s over in a minute and seven seconds. You slump against the wall, not really understanding what’s going on. You’re exhausted, just want to roll up into a ball and sleep. A voice breaks through your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” It’s the colorful one. Now that you’ve gotten a good look at him you realize the man is only wearing three colors, they’re just so bright that all you can think is ‘colorful’; his pale brown skin and dark hair help with that. There’s a surprisingly nice feel to him, which you like. You don't trust yourself to speak so you shrug instead.

The dark man-blur, who’s tall and more than a little imposing, moves a bit closer. “What are you doing here this late at night?”

“I don't know.” Your voice is still kind of croaky, you swallow and try again. “I don't know.” Much better. “I have no idea where I am.”

The colorful one kneels down so he’s at your height—the mask is unnerving, you’re used to seeing eyes. “I'm Robin, what's your name?”

You straighten. “Jason Pond.”

Robin grins. “Well, Jason Pond, how about Batman and I take you to the police and we can get you back to your parents? I bet they're worried sick about you.”

A warm feeling blooms in your chest. It turns into panic for a second when your hands pat your pockets, before you feel the edge of the folded photograph. You don’t want to lose it now when you’re so close to meeting your parents. With a shy smile you nod.


	2. Chapter 2

The car Robin calls the Batmobile is nothing like any other car you’ve ever seen, granted you haven’t seen very many. You don’t remember the ride to the station, only sliding into the warm leather seat in the back and closing your eyes. A gloved hand shakes you awake, Robin looks down at you apologetically. “We’re here.”

You stretch and climb out of the car, eyes darting around as you enter the building. You’ve never actually been in a police station before. A few of the officers on duty gave you odd looks, but otherwise don't bother you. One elevator ride and a short walk down a door filled corridor later, you’re are in the office of an older man who has glasses and a loosened tie.

The man, who Robin whispers to you is Commissioner Gordon, and Batman have a quick quiet chat, before he gestures for you to sit down. You fidget as Gordon gets out a pen and a pad of paper. “So tell me son, what's your name?”

“Jason Pond.”

Gordon starts writing. “And how old are you Jason?”

You nearly say ten before remembering it’s a lie now. “Eleven.”

“Batman told me that you had no idea where you were, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“What's the last thing you remember then?”

You think back for a moment before answering. “It was around midnight and Mels and I couldn’t sleep so we decided to explore more of the orphanage that Kavorian’d put us in.” You shudder. “She’d only put us and Renfew in there a few months before....” It’d been kind of fun at first, but after a few days it’d just been both boring and creepy.

“Jason?” Gordon’s voice pulls you out of those thoughts. “The orphanage?”

Right. “Kavorian, she’d...she’d just visited that day.” Your fingers dig into the arms of the chair. “She kept saying how good we were doing. Neither of us...really understood what she meant by that. But we still liked the praise.”

“What do you mean you didn’t understand?” Batman’s voice breaks into the conversation. You jump, having forgotten he was there. Even with your fright you find yourself smiling slightly when you see Robin elbow him.

“In the mornings after breakfast we’d make plans, but then the day would just…” Your face wrinkles up, trying to find the best word for it. “Vanish.”

Those words are met with silence and you pull your knees to your chest. There’s a weight to it you don’t understand, but know you don’t like. How you could make it go away however is beyond you—a fact you also don’t like.

Gordon clears his throat. “So, Kavorian visited. What happened after that?”

You shrug. “Before she left she said not to go in the basement. I, I convinced Mels that we should do it anyways. When we got to that bottom of the stairs I remember hands grabbing me and someone saying how much trouble I was, then Mels was screaming and I was being pushed into something that hurt. Next thing I knew I was in an alleyway.”

Gordon is frowning as he finishes writing. “Who are Mels, Kavorian, and Renfew?”

“Mels is my twin sister, her name’s actually Melody. Kavorian...” You bite your lip as you try to think of how to explain. “She said she was our caretaker, that our parents were with a bad man who wanted to kill us. They couldn’t get away from him so they gave us to Kavorian so we’d be safe. Renfew was the one who actually looked after us while Kavorian was away though, he wasn’t very good at it. Kept forgetting stuff.”

Now Gordon, Batman, and Robin are all frowning. “Do you know your parent’s names?”

You bristle at Gordon’s implication but give a stiff nod, your hand going to the pocket with their photo in it. “Amy Pond and Rory Williams.” You pull the photo from your pocket and gingerly unfold it putting it on the desk for all to see. Even though the inside creases are starting to turn white from all the folding and unfolding you’ve done, you can still see the happy couple in their wedding finery. Like always your chest aches.

“They hardly look like a couple being held by a killer.” You find yourself frowning at Batman’s comment. “Did this Kovarian ever name him?”

You shake your head. “She always called him the Spaceman.”

Gordon hands the photo back and you reverently fold it back up and return it to your pocket. “We’ll start searching for your parents as soon as possible, but it’s going to take a while. In the meantime we need to find you a place to stay.” You see the pointed look Gordon gives Batman but don’t understand it.

Whatever meaning it holds causes Robin to chuckle. Batman just retreats to a corner for two minutes, voice quietly speaking to someone, then turns back to them. “Bruce Wayne owes me a few favors, his butler will be here at nine to pick Jason up.”

Gordon opens his mouth to reply, but the two heroes are already gone. He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I hate it when he does that.”

You can’t help the snigger that escapes your lips. A small smile tugs at the edges of Gordon’s mouth though, so you don’t think you’re in too much trouble for it. Gordon puts his glasses back on and stands up. “I know you probably just want to curl up and sleep, but I’d like the pathologist to check you out, make sure you’re alright.”

Now that the older man’s mentioned it, your tiredness returns with a vengeance. Getting up and following Gordon feels like walking through honey. You do it anyways because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

You must have fallen asleep during the examination—how that could have happened while you were being poked and prodded is beyond you—because the next thing you know you’re being woken by a pretty Latina woman. She smiles at you. “Hello. You must be Jason.” It isn’t a question, but you nod anyways. “My name’s Renee, the Commissioner asked me to get you some breakfast. What do you want?”

At the mention of food you become more alert, but her question makes you pause. You and Mels were fed inconsistently thanks to Renfew, and always dead simple stuff like oatmeal or MREs. You resist the urge to shuffle nervously and settle on: “I don’t care.”

Something you think is an unhappy look crosses her face before vanishing. “It’s not much but the diner on the corner serves a mean hashbrown.” You don’t know what hashbrowns are, or how they can be ‘mean’. The rumbling of your stomach however curtails any questions for the moment.

Outside the street is noisy and full of more people than you’ve ever seen in your life. They don’t _frighten_ you, but you find yourself sticking closer to Renee anyways. Certain if you don’t you’ll get lost, and then you won’t _ever_ find your parents. She doesn’t seem to mind, even giving you a smile as she wraps an arm around your shoulders. The touch makes you jerk—no one’s ever touched you besides Mels and Kavorian, the doctor last night doesn’t count, before—and you’re not sure you like the flood of relief that comes when Renee lets go.

The diner she takes you to is just as loud and bustling as the street. When you sit across from her in a booth you tuck yourself into the corner of the bench. Again that unhappy look crosses Renee’s face and you like it even less this time.

You find you do like that she slides one of the menus over to you instead of handing. The sheer length of the list of food bewilders you. How are you supposed to choose? The amount of choice makes your heart seize and you don’t realize you’re shaking until Renee speaks.

“Jason?” The fact she knows your name shouldn’t scare you, _of course_ she’d know your name. She’s a _cop_. She’s even already called you by name, why is it frightening now? The creak of the seats is your only indication that she’s moving. “Jason?” She sounds right next to you now. “I need you to close your eyes and take deep breaths for me please. Can you do that?”

Closing your eyes is the easy part you find. The deep breaths just don’t want to come. You keep at it though, it helps that she asked nicely.

The warmth of her hand hovers above your shoulder, but she doesn’t touch you again. “Can you try and tell me what’s wrong Jason?”

A shaky, but deep breath leaves you. “Too...too much choice.” Too many people, too many choices, too much too fast. You feel tears running down your cheeks. “I want my parents. Or Mels.” Your soul hurts to be away from Mels, and while you’ve never met your parents you know that they’d fix whatever’s wrong with you.

Renee makes a soothing noise and even without looking you know she wants to hug you. You don’t think before letting yourself lean into her, giving her permission. Her hug feels nice, you wonder if all hugs feel this way—your sister is your only basis for comparison at the moment.

The tears dry up, you take another shaky breath as you open your eyes and pull away. You don’t know what to say now, but Renee smiles. “Better? Come on, I’ll help you pick something out.”

-

For the first time ever you think you have a full stomach. You didn’t realize it would make you feel warm and sleepy. On the walk back to the station you still stick close to Renee, and all of her radiates protectiveness.

In the bullpen there’s an old man in a suit waiting in the seats. You’re surprised when Renee brings you over to him. “Pennyworth right?” You kind of can’t stop staring, he’s the oldest person you’ve ever met. Yet there’s something coming off him that makes you think despite his age he’s not one to be messed with.

“That is correct Officer Montoya.” You find his voice reminds you of John Steed, and it endears him to you. Again surprise passes through you when the man slips from his seat and kneels in front of you. “My name’s Alfred Pennyworth. Who might you be?” He holds a gloved hand out.

You have the feeling he already knows, but you like that he asks anyways. “Jason Pond.” Copying Pennyworth you stick your hand out. Not sure _what_ it means.

More wrinkles form when Pennyworth smiles. His hand moves to touch yours and before you know it both hands are moving up and down. Weird. “It is a pleasure to meet you Master Jason.” ‘Master’ sounds weird, but you’re not sure arguing will do you any good. “I believe you were told that I would be taking you to Master Bruce’s home to be looked after?”

The memory jumps into the forefront of your mind. You nod as you take your hand back.

“Mr. Wayne’ll have to stop by the station sometime in the next few days to fill out paperwork.” Renee butts in. “Don’t worry kid.” She ruffles your hair. You hunch into your shoulders, but even with the reflex you like it. Maybe it’s because you’re still not exactly clean.

Pennyworth nods. “I shall remind him. Shall we go Master Jason?”

You like that it’s a question. Before you follow him though you turn and hug Renee again. “Thank you.” You remember enough manners to know that’s what you should say. Something warm surrounds your chest when she hugs you back.

“Anytime kiddo.” You find yourself hoping you see each other again.

Pulling away you trot after Pennyworth.

Only to stop and blink when you see the car he stops at. It’s no batmobile, but it’s… “Woah.” Different from any of the other cars around. You take the steps to the station two at a time, but stop right before you reach the car, not sure whether you can touch it or not.

There’s something you think is a smile on Pennyworth’s face. “I am glad you approve.” There’s a note there you don’t quite understand. He does however open the door for you. Climbing in you smell leather and something else and the seat creaks as you move around and you just sit there and run your fingers over the seams, the thick thread mesmerizing. Pennyworth clears his throat and you blink at him. “Please buckle up Master Jason.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you do see a strap hanging by the door, and it’s easy enough to figure out how to attach it to the seat. Since Pennyworth doesn’t say anything else you must have got it right. The strap is not the most comfortable thing, reminds you of too long fingers wrapping around your neck…

Shoving the top part of the strap so it rests on your shoulder is easy enough and you make yourself look out the window to distract yourself.

“We’re in Gotham right?” You’d seen it on all the shields at the police station and want to make sure you’re right. Nothing here reminds you of the orphanage so it must be very far away, you hope the police think to search that far and not just around Gotham.

“Indeed, Gotham, New Jersey. Most will tell you it is not the best place in the world to live, but it has its charms.” The buildings around you grow nicer and you start to see parks popping up, walls too. “Do you remember where you grew up Master Jason?”

You shrug. “Kavorian moved us around a lot, said it helped keep us safe. It rained a lot at Graystark Hill, that’s the last place we were at. One time we saw what we thought was a big scaly monster! When we told Renfew about it he just said it was a alligator, which doesn’t sound as interesting.”

Pennyworth makes an amused sound. Even if you don’t understand why you’re kind of glad he did. “I dare say you’re right Master Jason. Ah, here we are. Wayne Manor.” He pushes a button and the high gates in front of them open up.

All you can do is stare. On a rare non-rainy day you and Mels had gone outside. Even though you’d both been able to tell that the orphanage was big, seeing it from the outside had somehow made you realize _how_ big.

Wayne Manor is so much bigger, if not as tall.

Here the grounds aren’t overgrown and choked with weeds. The manor doesn’t even look like it would fall apart with a light breeze. This is probably a good thing, but you find yourself missing the place you’d lived. You and Mels had joked that you lived in the Addams’ family home—nevermind that Mels’ had never liked that show.

“I’m afraid for the time being it will be just you and I Master Jason. Master Bruce is in meetings for most of the day and Master Richard is at school for the week and will not be back here until Friday.” Pennyworth’s voice pulls you from the memory.

“You’re the only ones who live here?” The idea isn’t all that strange to you. After all you and Mels lived alone for the most part, with Kavorian only stopping by from time to time to drop off supplies and the like. Yet in a place this big it feels like you could not see anyone else for _days_.

Pennyworth pulls into a garage full of other cars. “Indeed. It is perhaps too big, but it has been the Wayne family home for generations and Master Bruce is disinclined to leave it.”

Unbuckling is easier than buckling and soon you’re hopping out of the car and trotting after Pennyworth. “Are you hungry Master Jason?”

You shake your head, then realize he can’t see you. “No sir. Uh, Renee took me out to breakfast.” You find yourself hoping that was okay, nobody in the station said anything.

“There is no need to call me ‘sir’ Master Jason, Alfred will do. Then how about I give you the tour and we can pick out a bedroom?”

You nod.

The manor is so big that it takes a while, but you’re good at remembering things so hopefully won’t get lost. There are _eight_ bedrooms for you to choose from and it’s almost too much. No helpful Renee to soothe you and help you decide. You fight to keep yourself from freaking out like you did before. Alfred is patient as you visit each room again and again, trying to get yourself to make a decision.

In the end you make your choice based on the windows. You even get your own bathroom—there is a door that goes from the bathroom to the bedroom next to yours, but since that one’s empty it’s _your_ bathroom. Alfred leaves you to explore your new room, telling you he’ll be in the kitchen if you need him.

You look through _everything_ , in the closet and dresser, under and in the bed, behind the paintings. Not exactly sure _what_ you’re looking for, only knowing you don’t find it. The panic doesn’t leave you so much as fade back into the background. Crawling onto the bench seat in front of the windows you stare out. Your room looks out over the grounds and Gotham beyond. You sit, content to stay here and stare, watching the sun and the birds swarming the various feeders scattered about.

“Master Jason?” Alfred’s voice shatters your little bubble. “Would you like some lunch?”

With a blink you look out over the grounds. The sun’s moved and the birds’ve gone. Losing time like that doesn’t bother you, you’re used to ‘zoning out’ as Mels’ called it. You’ve just never done it on _purpose_.

Turning you see Alfred by the door. Your stomach growls which pretty much answers the question for you. “Sure.” You hop off the bench, body complaining a little although that quickly disappears. He gives you a smile when you come to a stop next to him.


	3. Chapter 3

With Master Jason safely tucked into bed Alfred heads down into the Batcave. “Everything alright down here sir?” He’s surprised Master Bruce hasn’t already left for patrol. “If you are worried about Master Jason he is fine.” If quiet and wary.

Blue eyes blink at him for a moment. Even wearing the costume, without the cowl he doesn’t look half as frightening. “That’s good. No I was just looking up something.”

“DNA?” Alfred can see a sample of it up on the screen, if one that looks a little odd. “I didn’t realize it could look like that.”

“It’s Jason’s,” Master Bruce always did know how to surprise. “I’ve compared it with every alien and metahuman sample I have and nothing matches.” It doesn’t surprise him that Master Bruce has been collecting such things.

Alfred doesn't quite know how to feel about that. “Are you worried about him?” He’s certain that even if Master Bruce is he won’t abandon the boy, who has certainly been through enough.

“No,” Master Bruce shakes his head. “Until I can make sense of it it’s just another piece of the puzzle, if the strangest one yet.” Which Alfred knows is saything something. “I’m more worried about how to tell him his parents or sister don’t seem to exist.”

Yes, that would be more troubling than a genetic oddity wouldn’t it? “Perhaps in a few months when he’s better recovered? Right now telling him might do more harm than good.” Just that afternoon Jason had shily asked for a picture frame for the worn photo in his pocket. Alfred decides not to mention how much it had reminded him of Master Richard, and Master Bruce before him.

“Perhaps.” Is the only answer Alfred gets. Master Bruce shuts off the screen and pulls the cowl on.

-

It’s been two days now, two days where you’ve spent too much time exploring and reading and wondering when the police are going to come and tell you they’ve found your parents, or your sister.

Before you came to Gotham the passage of time never really bothered you. Besides the zoning out, you and Mels pretty much did whatever you pleased whenever, no matter if it was night or day. Now though you can’t help but be _aware_ of it. Breakfast happens whenever you wake up—Mr. Wayne is usually gone already—lunch around noon, and dinner at six o’clock sharp. There’s news after breakfast—your mind avidly pays attention, wanting to know _everything_ —books after lunch, cartoons later and after dinner you and Mr. Wayne play games. Soon after you go to bed and then your schedule, as it were, repeats.

Except tonight things’ll be different, Alfred’s comment about ‘Master Richard’ coming home Friday evening bubbling back up again while you try to pay attention to _Northanger Abbey_ —the fact you can just take any book from the library you want is staggering. You’d been feeling sneaky the other day and had overheard Alfred telling Mr. Wayne he was relieved you _could_ read. The words smart, you might never have gone to school but you _know_ things. Kavorian wouldn’t allow it any other way. You’d told them both as much at dinner last night, they’d been surprised but Alfred had apologized.

The music Alfred’s playing while he works is only a little distracting, if in a good way. Your legs swing in the air as you munch on cookies—“our secret Master Jason”—and keep Alfred company. You like the kitchen—it’s your second favorite room after the library—and don’t mind spending time in here when Alfred asks you.

It also means you can hear the garage doors open and close. You glance at the clock, the time isn’t quite right for Mr. Wayne to be home. To be safe you shove the last cookie in your mouth and hide your face in your book.

The door between the kitchen and the garage opens a minute later. “I’m home.” It’s a man’s voice you’ve never heard before. You peer over your book to see a tall lithe man with pale brown skin and the brightest blue eyes you think you’ve ever seen.

“Welcome back Master Richard.” Alfred’s smiling. “I believe Master Bruce told you about Master Jason?”

You hide your face in your book again. Unsure of what to say.

“Yeah,” there’s amusement in Richard’s tone, although you can’t understand _why_. “He told me.” The barstool next to you scrapes across the floor. “Hey kiddo. I’m Dick.”

You pull your head out of your book. It must be a Gotham thing, introducing yourself even after someone else had. Granted ‘Dick’ and ‘Richard’ are two completely different names. “Jason.” Dick holds his hand out and you shake it.

“How about you and I blow this popsicle stand and go play foosball or something?” Dick grins.

You turn your attention to Alfred, who gives a nod. “Okay.” You’re going to have to get used to his presence here even if he’s gone during the week, getting to know him shouldn’t be too bad. He has a good smile. Carefully you put your bookmark in and set the book where Alfred won’t accidentally get food on it. Then follow Dick as he leaves.

The game room is on the same floor as the kitchen and you start to head there, only to realize that Dick somehow fell behind. Rude considering he’d the one who suggested it. You turn to see him staring up at the railings of the second floor. “What?”

“You wanna see something cool?” The grin Dick flashes is blinding and cheerful and something about it tugs as familiar.

“Okay.” You say again, unsure of what he means by ‘cool’. But he’s the one who lives here, so maybe he just wants to show you something that Alfred of Mr. Wayne didn’t.

Instead Dick goes over to the stairs and with a hop is up on the banister. He balances on one foot as he gives a deep bow. Then he’s off, dancing up the banister like it’s just a regular stretch of floor. He reaches the second floor landing and you find yourself gasping as he does a flip and lands on the railing upside down. He walks across the railing a few times on his hands before doing another flip and landing on the floor in front of you, giving another bow.

You’re not sure you can speak, but your wide eyes and open mouth probably convey all Dick needs to know. “Pretty cool huh?” Again that familiar grin. “I used to be in the circus you know.” He sounds proud. You decide not to tell him you don’t know what a circus is.

“I want to do it!” You rush to the stairs, but Dick grabs you before you can try to pull yourself onto the banister.

“How about we wait to try the risky stuff?” Dick’s tone is easy. “Instead of foosball we could go to the gym and I could teach you some other stuff? B might kill me otherwise.”

You find yourself looking at the banister. Despite what Dick’s said you know you could do it. It might result in a broken bone or two the first time, but if given a second chance you’d probably have it down. Kavorian wouldn’t expect anything less. However you don’t want to get Dick in trouble. So you nod.

Which is how Mr. Wayne finds the both of you an hour later. Dick’s giving you pointers on your handstand while weird music blares from the radio in the corner—it’s nothing like the stuff Alfred listens too. “Should I be worried?” Mr. Wayne sounds amused despite his words.

“Don’t worry B, I’m not training him to run away to the circus.” Dick gives you a broad wink and you’re glad the handstand takes focus.

It still gets Mr. Wayne to snort. “Running away or not Alfred wanted you to know dinner’ll be ready in thirty. He strongly implied being clean.” Again that amused tone. “I’m glad to see you two are getting along though.” The amusement softens. You don’t get why it’s nice the two of you get along, it’s not as if Dick’s here during the weekdays and you’re not going to be staying much longer you’re sure.

You roll out of your handstand as Mr. Wayne leaves. “Thanks.” It’s not the most useful thing but it was fun. “Maybe we can do more tomorrow?” You’re not sure if you like the hopeful tone in your voice.

“Yeah.” Dick beams. “But B’s right about the shower.” Dick pinches the bridge of his nose and waves his hand in front of your face. “You stink.”

A frown crosses your face and you sniff yourself. “I do?”

Dick’s smile shrinks. “I see you take after B’s sense of humor.”

With a roll of your eyes you leave.

After cleaning up you stop by the library to look up ‘circus’. It sounds interesting and you wonder why he left.

-

It’s a rare weekday breakfast where Mr. Wayne is at the table with you. There are weird bruises on his neck, an equally weird pinched expression on his face. The front page of the paper he’s reading proclaims that a supposedly cursed cat statue was stolen from the Gotham museum last night.

You’re surprised Batman and Robin failed to stop whoever did it. The Gotham news always talks about them and they seem invincible to you after everything you’ve heard.

“Jason?”

You blink and realize Mr. Wayne is looking at you. “Yeah?” You shovel eggs into your mouth.

“I know we only talked about me taking you in until the police found your parents.” It’s been a month now, each day feeling like a weight on your neck. The rustle of newspaper catches your ear and you’re surprised that Mr. Wayne has put his paper down and is looking at you. The whole world seeming to be in his blue eyes. Mr. Wayne continues. “If it’s alright with you I’d like to have you enrolled in school.”

“I’ve never been in school,” you blurt before you can think. You shove more eggs into your mouth to keep from blurting again.

There’s a tightness around Mr. Wayne’s eyes for a second then it’s gone. “According to Dick it’s not that bad. What do you say? Up for giving it a try?” There’s a hopeful note in his voice.

You don’t know what else to say except. “Okay.”

-

The next day is a whirlwind of uniform fitting and testing at Gotham Academy. With no sort of records they need to figure out where best to put you and it makes you kind of uncomfortable but you write out answers until your hand cramps. Nevermind that you don’t understand half the questions.

When you exit, blinking at the bright sun, you frown to see a group of people with cameras. They spot you and start shouting questions as they take pictures and run towards you. You find yourself torn between the urge to run away—keeping yourself secret means better chance at doing what you were meant to—and fight them—which might draw too much attention.

Alfred swoops in before you can make a decision. “This way Master Jason.” The glare he sends to the people taking photographs gets them to stop and you’re in awe. You go with him, jogging to keep up with his brisk walk.

He opens the back door of the car—not the same one as before—and you’re surprised to see Mr. Wayne sitting there. Behind you the photographers start taking pictures again. This time shouting questions at Mr. Wayne. You’re ushered into the car and the door closes. “Are you alright Jason?”

It’s the anger in Mr. Wayne’s voice that catches you off guard more than the question. “Am I in trouble?” You remember to buckle up as Alfred pulls into traffic.

The anger in his face melts away. “No. I’m not angry at you Jason. But I’m going to find out who ever told the press about you and give ‘em hell.” He gives you an odd smile. “Guess I should have warned you the press loves to gossip about me.” His hand reaches out and ruffles your hair. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them bother you anymore.”

You give him a smile in return. In a way you’d known about the press thing, there’s always a sound bite or two about Bruce Wayne, or Wayne Enterprises on the news, but this had been something different. “Thanks Mr. Wayne.”

Mr. Wayne’s smile grows. “You can call me Bruce if you want Jason.” You know, but it feels _weird_. “How’d the testing go?”

Even knowing the question would eventually be asked you don’t like it. “I did really well on the math stuff.” Which you’re pretty proud of. “I did okay with science and language arts.” Which you feel isn’t fair, you know a lot about science, but apparently not what the Academy considered science. And it’s not as if you’d ever been taught how to properly use a comma—although your spelling’s gotten better since you started reading all the books in the Manor.

“How about history and literature?”

At Mr. Wayne’s question you slouch into your seat, staring at the back of the front seats. “I failed.” It hurts in a way to admit that. It’s not as if learning the Presidents or who wrote what were important things for you to learn.

Risking a glance at Mr. Wayne you’re sort of relieved his angry expression isn’t back. “When we get back to the manor we could raid Dick’s room. I’m pretty sure some of his old textbooks are still there.”

You slouch even more, shifting when the seat belt cuts into neck. “Won’t Dick be mad?” You know you would be.

Mr. Wayne smiles and ruffles your hair. “If he were here he’d be offering them himself.”

-

This weekend Dick’s showing you how to use the parallel bars. “You should have an interview with someone.” He demonstrates skin the cat again and you run through what he did slower in your head.

“Why?” Swinging backwards from your knees you grab the bars with your hands. Your upper arm twinges for a moment, reminding you of the shots you’d had to get yesterday. “Mr. Wayne said they wouldn’t bother me anymore.”

“Now let go with your legs and swing.” You try to do it but one of your feet catches on the pad beneath the bars. Your face scrunches. “But they _want_ to still. Right now you’re a mystery and the press love a good mystery. Why there’s so many news shows about superheroes.” You know, you watch a few of them. “Giving an interview shows them you’re pretty boring actually and interest will wane.”

You try the move again and make it, barely. Dick woops. “Great job Jason! Anyways if you pick the right person it won’t be stressful. Not everyone’s like that hoard that tried to swarm you a few days ago.”

Again, this time much smoother than before. “Who?”

Dick hops onto the bars, balancing on one like it’s easy. “Well it’d probably be better to do print instead of video.” He sounds like he knows what he’s talking about, you decide not to ask how many interviews he’s given. “Vicki’s great, but she doesn’t know how to pull her punches.” Crouching Dick rests his chin in his hand. “Summer doesn’t do print anymore. Lois...no.” Despite his words a smile crosses his face. “Clark! He’s really nice, and B’s friend. Though B’ll deny it.” Why?

You guess it’s not that important, adults are weird anyways. You’re still not sure about this whole interview thing, but Dick hasn’t lied to you yet. Hauling yourself onto the opposite bar from Dick you mimic his perching. “If I do it you’ve got to tell me why pumpkins are popping up everywhere, and why Mr. Wayne’s complaining about music starting too early.” Whatever the hell that means.

For a second all Dick does is stare, but you can see the understanding flicker to life. “They didn’t teach you about holidays?” He sounds oddly gleeful.

You’d cross your arms, but it might mean losing your balance. “No,” you try not to be defensive about it.

The glee shifts with his smile. “Oh my God. We’re gonna give you your first holidays!” You don’t understand why Dick’s so...happy about this. “Of course I’ll explain them! Oh man, this is gonna be great!” He freezes and looks at you. “ _Oh my God. You’ve never seen_ Star Wars _have you_?”

Hopefully you don’t regret this agreement.


	4. Chapter 4

Clark Kent is a mountain of a man. You’d seen his height, and pictures, on his Wikipedia page, but it’s different meeting him in real life. In fact you’re surprised that when Mr. Wayne goes to shake Kent’s hand they’re the same height. It just doesn’t seem right.

“Clark,” Mr. Wayne’s all smiles. “Thanks for doing this. How’re Lois and Jon?”

The smile Kent gives in reply is more bashful. “Alright. Lois’ doing a piece on Qurac. Jon’s started walking, much to Ma and Pa’s delight. Y’all should stop by for dinner sometime.” You think Mr. Wayne flinches at this, but don’t know why. Kent’s attention leaves Mr. Wayne and turns to you. He even crouches down as he offers you a hand. “You must be Jason.” His eyes are very earnest. “It’s good to meet you.”

You take his hand and are strangely pleased when he’s gentle. “Nice to meet you too. Dick talks a lot about you.” Or he has since he suggested the idea.

A blinding smile from Kent. “Dick’s usually that way about most people he likes. Speaking of…” You blink in surprise when Kent stands up and turns. The way he stands shifting just a little.

“Clark!” Dick flies down from the second floor and out of the corner of your eye you see Mr. Wayne shake his head. “I’m so excited you're here! Did you bring pictures of Jon? Are you staying for dinner?” If you didn’t know better you’d think Dick was _your_ age.

Kent gives Dick a brief hug and then sets him down. “I did bring pictures. But how about I do my job first and then I’ll show you alright? As for dinner I’m fairly certain that’s up to Bruce.”

Dick pouts but slinks off with a “see you later!”

Mr. Wayne shakes his head again, but you can see the smile on his face. “I thought you two could do the interview in the parlor if that’s alright. Alfred should be by shortly with some refreshments. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.” You think this is directed more at you than Kent. Regardless it’s comforting to know. Mr. Wayne is distant sometimes, but you know he _cares_.

“Mind showing me the way Jason?” From the way he’s talked with Mr. Wayne and Dick, you’re certain he already knows the way himself. It’s nice though, being asked. You nod anyways and head off.

There’s a fire already going in the parlor, which helps with the chill in the room that persists even with the heating. You take one of the wingback chairs close to the coffee table, small enough that you can curl into it with ease. Kent takes the couch across from you.

You expect him to pull out a notepad and pencil, but instead he pulls out a voice recorder. “Easier to keep track of things.” He explains at your questioning look. “Less chance of me getting something wrong later, too. Now I do have questions, but you’ve got the right to not answer if you don’t want to. And I hope this turns more into a conversation than just an interview.” You like that he’s being honest.

Before you have a chance to respond Alfred enters with a tray. “Your drinks and snacks.”

Kent smiles. “Thanks Alfred. Ma wanted you to know that scone recipe was a hit with her knitting circle.”

“I am glad the fine ladies of Smallville approve.” As he sets the tray down you reach for the mug of tea he’s made for you, pleased to see the little salt pot in case you need it. “Should she wish for more she need only e-mail me. Perhaps in exchange she can send a few of her own. I am always up for a new challenge.”

This makes Kent laugh. “I’ll let her know when I pick up Jon.” As Alfred leaves Kent turns on his voice recorder, setting it on the table between them as he picks up his own coffee and one of the finger sandwiches. “So Jason. How do you like Gotham and Wayne manor so far?”

-

“...think the kraken belongs to Atlantis. Jason: Oh, well it’d be cool to see the kraken too.” Dick reads from the paper a week later, despite your smiling you roll your eyes at his dramatic reading. His impression of you is okay.

Mr. Wayne is smiling. “I didn’t know you were such an adventurous spirit Jason.”

You duck your head, both embarrassed and pleased. “I just think it’d be fun.” You like the idea of exploring, of finding new places and things. Meeting new people.

“Maybe if you’re still here when summer comes we could go on a trip somewhere.” Dick’s enthusiasm is catching. Nevermind that you’re not sure you want to linger that long; at eleven you shouldn’t have to think about things like what you might do if your parents are never found.

“Maybe,” Mr. Wayne hedges. “Have you thought about what you’d like to go as for Halloween Jason?”

The subject change is welcome. Ever since Dick explained Halloween to you, you’ve been excited. Dressing up and going out for free candy? What was not to like? You’re grateful Dick and his girlfriend Barbara, who you still haven’t met yet, agreed to take you out. As much as you like Alfred and the decorations you’ve been helping him put up—when you’re not in school—you’re not interested in hanging around the Manor. “Yeah! I wanna be Robin. I just need to find my costume.” With two weeks to go there’s only a little rush.

Dick beams. “I got you covered on the costume Jay, don’t you worry.”

Mr. Wayne gives an exasperated sigh.

-

After dinner on Halloween you rush to your room and change into your costume. You wish you knew where Dick got it. You might have only one bright memory of Robin but this costume matches it almost completely, save that it’s in your size.

Goosebumps prickle up your legs as you try to figure out how to put the cape on—Dick had already shown how to put on the mask the other day—but you’re more than happy to bear it. Giving up on the cape you carry it in one of your gloved hands, pillowcase in the other. Hopefully Dick or Alfred will be able to help.

The doorbell rings before you can find either of them and dropping your things in the nearest chair you rush to the front door, wanting to be the one who hands out candy to the kids.

Except when you open the door it’s not a group of kids like you expected, but a lone woman.

She’s beautiful, her short blonde hair held back by a spangly headband, tall white feathers drooping to the side. Her dress matches the headband, spangly and silver-white and shapeless. She smiles at you with very red lips, the corners of her green eyes crinkling. “Hey kiddo. Is Brucie here? Love the costume.”

Before you can think of a reply Alfred is there. “Ah. Miss Kyle. Lovely to see you as always. Master Bruce will be down shortly, would you like some refreshment before you go?” At his gesturing you step aside so she can come in, the door closing behind her.

“No, thank you though Alfred.” You open your mouth when she rifles through the candy bowl, but you guess she _is_ dressed up. She settles on Rollos and takes a seat in one of the chairs.

“Do you know if Dick’s gonna be down soon Alfred?” You turn to him, content to ignore Miss Kyle. “And can you help me with the cape please?” You offer it up.

“Of course Master Jason.” Alfred crouches down and takes the cape from you. “There we are. Might I say you look the very image of dashing Master Jason. I do hope you will let me take pictures.”

You blush and duck your head. “Yeah, okay.” Having pictures to show your parents would be nice, although after two months you find yourself hoping that when your parents are found they let you come visit the Manor once in a while.

“Sorry I’m late Ba-oh. Hi Selina, thought you were Babs for a sec.” Dick looks like he stepped out of one of those Indiana Jones movies the two of you watched together—you liked them—sans whip and hat.

Miss Kyle stands and they share a brief hug. “Honest mistake I’m sure. My you clean up nice. Barbara’s a lucky woman.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “I’m the lucky one trust me. I passed Bruce on the way down, so he should be here soon.” He turns his attention to you. “Lookin’ sharp there Jay. Like the costume?”

You bounce, balancing on your heels for a second. “Yeah!” You try to attempt a cartwheel, only the cape gets in the way. You’re grinning when you untangle yourself. “I’m fine.”

Miss Kyle looks like she’s trying to muffle her laughter while Dick returns your smile. Alfred’s smiling too, although you can barely tell behind the camera he’s holding up to his face.

“Careful there Jason,” Mr. Wayne’s voice floats down from the stop of the stairs. “Don’t want to miss out on trick-or-treating.” He’s wearing a suit, although it looks a lot different from the ones he usually wears, and you’ve never seen him in a hat before. “Sorry about the wait Selina. I’m fairly certain the suspenders and I nearly got into a fight.”

She laughs, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “I do hope you won.”

“Looks like it.” He smiles as he offers her his arm. “Is the car ready Alfred?”

“Yes sir, do enjoy your evening.”

“Hey Jay.” You turn your attention to Dick unsurprised to see him balancing on a chair. “Wanna go hide in the trees and scare trick or treaters?”

Before you can answer Mr. Wayne calls out from the open door. “Both of you need to be home by nine, and no horror movies Dick.”

“Awww. But I was gonna show Jason _Alien_.”

Whatever response Mr. Wayne gives is muffled by Alfred closing the door. The no horror movie ban has you disappointed too; watching movies with Dick has been enjoyable. Dick had laughed when you’d said you wanted to watch all the movies you could, claiming that as far as goals went that one was pretty good.

You’re copying Dick’s handstand, and wondering how Robin did all his cool stuff without the cape getting in the way, when the doorbell rings again. This time it’s Alfred who gets the door and you stare as kids in various costumes all shout “Trick or treat!”

Almost before Alfred closes the door there’s more kids, as well as a red haired woman who steps around the kids to come inside. “Babs!” Dick does a flip off the chair and scoops her up. “I was starting to wonder if you’d been overtaken by kids or something.”

She’s dressed in the same sort of style as Dick, if in a skirt, her hair pulled back into a messy bun and glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Or something,” she shoots back. “Now put me down you big lug.” A smile belies her words.

Dick does so and you’re surprised when she crouches down and sticks her hand out. “You must be Jason, Dick talks a lot about you.” Her tone’s almost conspiratorial. “I’m Barbara, but you can call me Babs.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes and righting yourself to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Dick’s talked about her a lot too, usually while staring off into the distance and wearing the strangest smile. Letting go of her hand you grab your pillow case. “Can we go now?”

As Babs stands she laughs. “Oh I like him Dick, definitely got his priorities in order.”

Like Mr. Wayne had, Dick sticks his arm out for Babs. “Alright Jason, let’s head out!”

“Don’t worry Alfred I’ll make sure they don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Appreciated, Miss Barbara.”

-

As November trundles along you find yourself making your candy last as long as you can—granted it’s a little easier when Dick went and bought you a whole bag of the stuff and then made you swear not to tell Mr. Wayne.

You also find yourself settling into school. Now that you’re in it you find it’s easier than expected. Your teachers are seemingly bewildered by how quickly you’re catching up. You don’t see why they should be, it’s _fascinating_.

Friends your age are a bit harder to come by. You can be social when pressed, but much prefer the company of your novels. The other kids at school don’t exactly _scare_ you, but you find yourself wary of them. They in turn sort of ignore you. You’re not really like them after all, not rich and happy to talk about which vacation home you’re planning on spending Christmas at. But you’re also not like ‘them.’

The ‘them’ in question are the scholarship kids, who for various reasons fit in even less than you do. Yet you find them more enjoyable to be around than the other rich kids. Even if you find yourself holding back.

After all, the police are going to find your parents soon. You’re certain of it.

-

Now that you’re in school, sleeping in on a weekday is a rare treat, one you take shameless advantage of when you get a week off for Thanksgiving.

When you are awake you’ve gladly let yourself be recruited by Alfred to clean and do food prep for the big day itself. How four people are going to eat all the food being made is beyond you, even if Dick does seem to be a bottomless pit.

You’re intently watching the cranberries boil—they smell weirdly good and it’s interesting to watch them bob about—when you finally ask him about it. Alfred smiles at you from across the island, intently measuring out vodka for pie crust. “Well there shall certainly be more than the four of us.”

This is news to you. “Who else?” You get that Thanksgiving is all about family getting together, but as far as you know you, Dick, and Alfred are the only family Mr. Wayne has—of a sorts.

“Master Richard has invited Miss Gordon and her father over. I do believe Mr. Kent and his family shall be visiting. I do not know if she will be joining us but Master Bruce invited Miss Prince. Miss Kate and her father will be joining us as well, they are his cousin and uncle on his mother’s side”

You blink. Alright that’s more people than you were expecting. You hadn’t realized he _did_ still have family. You know the story of Mr. Wayne’s parents—heard first from Alfred and then far more gossipy versions from the kids at school. “Oh.”

Alfred gives you a smile as he starts to knead dough. “Master Bruce may not talk about them much, but family, blood or otherwise, has always been important to him. Now please fetch me the rolling pin.”


	5. Chapter 5

Thanksgiving morning is a hectic rush. You and Alfred go to the airport at the ungodly hour of 8 AM to pick Dick up. Despite the hour it’s worth it afterwards, Dick regaling you—and Alfred—of all the adventures he had with his friends in San Francisco, complete with what seems like a million photos. You’re impressed that he’s friends with Beast Boy.

Back at the Manor you and Dick are recruited into cleaning, and even Mr. Wayne chips in some. Mortification fills you when he catches you laughing at him. He’s got cobwebs in his hair, _of course_ you’re going to laugh at him. He only smiles in response.

Alfred insists you wash your hands three times before he allows you to help in the kitchen. You’re not exactly able to hold back your grin at Dick’s jealous look at that. The downside is you’re not actually allowed to try the food. As much as you like helping cook in and of itself, you feel getting to taste everything is part of the work. Maybe when you’re older, or something to try and convince your parents on, one day.

The doorbell rings at around twelve thirty. Risking not being allowed back in you dash out of the kitchen to see who it is.

It’s Babs and her dad, who you’re surprised to realize is Commissioner Gordon. Dick sweeps Babs up before you can do more than wave at her. “Glad to see you’re settling in. Thanks again for inviting us, Bruce.” Commissioner Gordon smiles at you.

“It’s not a problem at all, Jim.”

Before Bruce can continue the doorbell rings again. This time it’s two people you don’t recognize. You also didn’t realize hair could be that red and you’re kind of jealous.

“Jason.” Right, perhaps not polite to stare at the hair you now want. “These are my cousin Kate and uncle Jacob.”

“Hi,” you manage to get out.

Jacob grins at you. “Nice to meet you Jason. Read your interview in the _Planet_ , gotta say I like your fire.”

You duck your head into your shoulders. “Thanks.” There is a sort of relief that he goes off to Gordon, drawing the man into a conversation instead of talking to you more. People talking to you about the interview don’t bother you. It’s just...you had sort of agreed to do it on the idea that it would bring _less_ attention to you.

So focused on your thoughts you don’t realize Kate crouches in front of you until you’re looking into gray eyes, a look in them you don’t quite understand. “You know the code right?”

“What?” It’s perhaps not the strangest thing anyone’s ever said to you, but it’s up there.

“Us redheads gotta stick together, look out for each other.” She gives a broad wink as she ruffles your hair. “We’re a pretty special group so you gotta always do it alright?”

There’s a feeling like this is more than you bargained for. You also find yourself smiling back, because you think she’s not wrong. “Alright.”

“Cool beans kiddo. Now,” she straightens. “I hear a wine glass and the game calling.”

Mr. Wayne snorts. You hadn’t realized he was still here. “You know where to find them Kate. Make yourself at home.” He’s smiling as he says it though.

“Oh I always do, cousin.” It gets harder to hold back your smile as you watch her walk past Mr. Wayne and ruffle _his_ hair too. “Nice meeting you Jason.” With a wave she swans off to the living room.

Mr. Wayne’s hand lands on your shoulder, warm and heavy. “How about you go check back in with Alfred, Jason. Might be a little while for the rest of the guests to arrive.” You might have already been aware of who else is coming, but the idea of _more_ people is still sort of staggering.

You nod anyways heading back into the kitchen. A loud cheer rises up from the living room as you pass it but cooking’s more interesting than football.

“Your hands again if you please Master Jason.” Alfred doesn’t even look up from the pan he’s stirring. Freaky. You wash your hands and then get swept back in.

Eventually however Alfred kicks you out and you find yourself in the living room with everyone else. You only spare the screen a brief glance as you go to grab a soda and a plate full of vegetables to nibble on. Dick gives you a little wave from where he’s plastered against Babs’ side, her expression one of bemused acceptance. Mr. Wayne’s talking with Jacob and both Kate and Gordon seem content to focus on the screen, occasionally shouting at it when the ref makes what they think is a bad call.

Finding an out of the way corner you unearth one of the books you’d stashed away earlier— _Sabriel_ —and open it up, losing yourself in the strange world of magic and death. But not even an interesting world can hold your attention when the doorbell rings again. You’re just glad to see you’re not the only one. You trail behind Dick and Mr. Wayne as they head out.

Kent you already know of course. Either of the two women next to him could be his wife, but you’re pretty sure the one holding the baby and wearing the wedding ring is Mrs. Kent. Mr. Wayne and Dick pretty much swarm them, Mr. Wayne begrudgingly taking a hug from Kent and Dick scooping up the baby—his name is Jon you recall—ignoring the way Mrs. Kent rolls her eyes.

Mr. Wayne pulls you in easily. Kent’s wife is Lois and the other woman is Diana Prince.

“Don’t think the cute kid’s gonna stop me from asking about WayneTech’s green energy promises Bruce.” There’s a sharp light in Mrs. Kent’s purple eyes.

Ms. Prince laughs and Kent groans. “Lois we agreed no work. It’s Thanksgiving.” As if to derail that conversation he lifts up the box he’d been carrying. “We brought Ma’s apple pie.”

As if that’s some magic word, Kate sticks her head out from the living room. “I hope you brought two Kent, I need my fix!” His ears turn pink and Mrs. Kent laughs.

“Do we really need more pie?” You find yourself asking. Alfred already made pumpkin and mincemeat, apple pie just feels like too much.

“Heathen,” Kate says at the same time Mrs. Kent laughs. “Oh, I like him.”

“It’s always good to have more than one choice.” Ms. Prince’s responds. Not the answer you expected but you guess it makes sense.

“There’s snacks and drinks in the living room,” Mr. Wayne’s all charming host.

Mr. and Mrs. Kent head that way, Mr. Kent detouring to drop off the pie, and Mrs. Kent muttering something about rescuing her son.

Ms. Prince crouches down to look you in the eye, drawing your attention back to her. There’s something about the way she moves that’s too graceful to be normal. Dick’s like that, but only on occasion. It’s sort of awe inspiring and you find yourself fighting to keep from blushing. “It’s good to finally meet you Jason. I’ve heard quite a few good things about you from Bruce.” She holds out her hand.

Now you’re blushing and kind of wishing you had Dick or Mr. Wayne to hide behind. “It’s good to meet you too Ms. Prince,” you manage to get out as you shake her hand.

“Please, call me Diana.” Her smile is bright. “Ms. Prince makes me feel like I’m at work.”

She lets your hand go and stands. You don’t find it strange at all that she starts to lead you towards the living room where everyone else is. “What do you do?” You can’t recall seeing mention of her on the news, though something about her also niggles at you as familiar.

“I’m the ambassador for Themyscira at the UN.”

You stare at her wide-eyed. She’s an _Amazon_. “Did Hercules really steal Queen Hippolyta's girdle?” You don’t mean to ask it, but your brain to mouth filter fails you. Perhaps in your defense you’re studying the Greeks in History at the moment.

The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “I’m a bit too young to know that. Perhaps if you come to visit the island you can ask my mother Hippolyta herself.”

She’s an _Amazon Princess?_ “Cool.” Sure Kate might have told you the redhead code, but you think Diana might be your new favorite person. How can she not be?

Her smile deepens. “You’ll probably have to ask Bruce first. I doubt he’d appreciate me sweeping you away.” There’s something else there, some joke you don’t quite get.

That thought gets lost in the wave of sadness however. “I should be asking my parents.” It’s somewhere between a pout and a reminder. If she’s friends with Mr. Wayne, then she has to know he’s only looking after you.

“You’re right.” Her grip feels even stronger than Mr. Wayne’s does. “I apologize.” Reaching the living room she gives your shoulder a brief squeeze before going off to join the other adults. Unmoored, you return to your books, letting the conversations and game fade into the background.

“Dinner is ready,” Alfred’s voice cuts through everything. Putting your book away you join everyone else in leaving.

-

After dinner—So. Much. _Food_ —everyone sort of stumbles back into the living room. The TV’s off now however, leaving only conversation. As you sort of collapse into a seat you find yourself glad that you had dinner this early, because it means you’ll have room for pie before bedtime.

Sometime over the course of eating, Kent had gotten Jon back from Dick and is managing to make faces at him while also holding a conversation with Gordon. It’s impressive.

You’re curious, but wary. You’d like to go and look at him up close, but don’t want to bother Kent. Yet you’re also sure you can’t just go up and take Jon from him. So you just watch the two of them, Jon’s chubby hands wrapping around one of Kent’s fingers and waving it about like it’s his favorite toy.

Hand rising up, you rub the spot of your chest that aches.

“Kate,” Kent turns from Gordon with a smile. “Would you like to hold Jon?”

“Oh no,” Kate laughs and holds up her wine glass like it’s a shield. “I am not a baby woman.”

Kent takes that without comment and turns to you. “What about you, Jason?”

All you can sort of do is nod, pulling yourself off the chair to sit between Kent and Kate on the couch. He shows you how to position your arms to best hold him, then they’re full of a surprisingly warm and heavy weight.

As you tilt your head down to better peer at him, Jon opens his eyes. They’re purple like his mother’s—you’d thought they’d be blue. Regardless they stare back at you with equal curiosity. One of his hands comes up and grabs at your cheek, but gets some hair instead. He gives a firm tug and you find yourself smiling. “That’s red hair, pretty cool huh?”

Jon gurgles, and you’re going to take it as agreement.


	6. Chapter 6

While you’d much rather read while the teacher lectures—you’d read over everything he’s covering already—you know that’ll get you in trouble. You’re stuck tapping your pencil against the desk while you wait for English to be over. Hands down it might be your favorite subject, which doesn’t stop it from being _boring_ on occasion.

Four months now, and you’re not giving up. You’re _not_. They’re your parents, you _can’t_ give up on them. Not when they risked so much so that you and Mels could live. If giving up on them is impossible than giving up on Mels is tantamount to admitting the universe is ending.

Hope is so _tiring_. You hadn’t realized this before. It pulls you down until some days all you want to do is curl up in your bed with a book and forget everything else exists. Far better than being all too aware of weight and ache that makes it hard to breath and too easy to cry. Better than hating yourself when you forget for just a moment.

The bell makes your heart skip a beat and with a shake you join the rest of your classmates in packing up.

-

Outside the snow’s falling in droves again. You’d spent most of the day in it, running yourself ragged making snowmen and having a snowball fight with Dick.

Now you’re wrapped up in a blanket drinking hot chocolate while Mr. Wayne teaches you chess. Dick sits nearby, furiously attempting to finish his homework before he goes back to school tomorrow. Even Alfred’s here, with tea and a book. You drink as Mr. Wayne moves his bishop.

“Jason,” Mr. Wayne takes a sip of his coffee. “I know we talked a little about Christmas, and that you didn’t want anything.” He’s already gotten you clothes, a laptop, food, even a cell phone. Asking for more makes your stomach twist in ways you don’t like.

“I still say we should get him books,” Dick chimes in with a smile.

Picking up one of the pawns you’ve captured you debate how much trouble you might get in for tossing it at him. It’s heavy and probably an antique, so you put it back down. Sticking your tongue out at Dick instead. He sticks his tongue out right back.

Mr. Wayne’s smile makes your cheeks heat. “Even so, I thought you might like a trip somewhere over the break. There’s a lot more to see of the world than just Gotham. You’ve still got two weeks to think about where you might want to go, so don’t feel too pressured to come up with something now.”

He says that, but too much choice makes you freeze. You’re getting better about it, but something this big is daunting. “Anywhere?”

“Should choose San Francisco! I know my friends would love to meet you! And there’s lots of cool museums. No snow either.” As far as ringing endorsements go, that last part isn’t as convincing as Dick’d like. You happen to like the snow.

It gets a huff from Mr. Wayne. “Like I said, no need to make a decision now. Thinking about what you might want to do there is a good idea however.” He smiles. “It’s your move Jason.”

“Alright.” You look at the board and frown.

-

With school work being as easy as it is, and growing less with the end of the term coming up, you’ve got lots of time to look into places to go. It’s a daunting task, but kind of enjoyable in a way. Dick’s suggestion, sort of, of museums helps narrow your choices down. Not by much, granted. Even a little helps though.

After about a week you’ve come to a decision.

“I want to go to D.C.,” you tell Mr. Wayne over breakfast.

He doesn’t respond right away, but you’re used to that now. “Anything special there in particular?”

You shrug as you take a sip of tea. “The Smithsonian museums all look interesting.” They’re also free, which helps some with the guilt. “The national parks, too.” Even if in your mind calling them parks is weird when most of them are buildings.

Mr. Wayne’s smile has you smiling back in return. “I’ll start making arrangements then.”

-

After two days you collapse onto the hotel couch with a groan. “My legs are going on strike. You’ll have to carry me the rest of the week.” You’d thought with all the walking you do at school and the gymnastics on the weekends you would’ve been more prepared.

You grunt as Dick lands on top of you, his weight heavy but nice.

Mr. Wayne shakes his head at the both of you. “I take it we’ll be doing room service then?” You try to copy Dick’s thumbs up, but it ends up more that you’re jabbing his shoulder. Works well enough.

Even with your complaints you’ve been enjoying yourself. The museums have been everything you’d hoped they’d be, and Mr. Wayne had even gotten you a backstage tour in the natural history museum today and your head’s still reeling from how cool it was. Now if only your history class in school was that interesting.

“Hey,” Dick pokes you in the side, drawing you away from listening to Mr. Wayne order dinner. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

A blush steals across your cheeks. “I like hanging out with you.” Sure he can sometimes be over enthusiastic, but he listens if you tell him you want to be alone. He also makes the effort to do stuff _you’re_ interested in, instead of just dragging you along to stuff he likes.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Dick pulls you closer. “Hey,” he soothes. “I miss my family sometimes too.”

Clinging to his comfort, you let go a little, hardly even noticing the warm hand that settles on your shoulder.

-

Dick bounds into the passenger seat of the Batmobile; there might be no one to watch, but that doesn’t mean he won’t show off. Tomorrow he’s flying out to spend the rest of his winter break with the Titans. Which doesn’t stop him from donning Robin tonight and heading out with Bruce, he can sleep on the plane.

It’s one of the good nights, where they help more people than they hurt. By the end of it, Dick’s practically glowing. As they drive towards home he can’t hold it in any longer. “I want to tell Jason.” No need to specify about what, there’s only one secret they’re keeping from him.

Bruce’s silence is less stoney than usual, but Dick can tell he doesn’t quite like the idea. “He’d be in danger.”

“And he’s not already as your ward?” Dick challenges. Kidnapping’s always a risk when you’re associated with someone as rich as Bruce Wayne. More silence, but Dick knows he’s scored a point as it were, so he continues. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on from Robin, maybe even pass it on…” Dick doesn’t see a reason to be subtle.

“I’ve seen the sketches.” One of which Bruce actually tossed in the trash—what he has against feather details and popped collars Dick’ll never know. “First you want to tell him, now you want him to replace you?” Only Bruce can be incredulous without actually sounding it.

Dick shrugs. “Even if I move on from Robin you should still have one, B.” He’d like to think it’s a sign he’s grown as a person that he’s willing to hand it off to someone else. Robin will always be his in a way, but he still knows he’s right about passing it down. “Jason’d be a good fit, and it’ll help distract him.” Dick can’t ever imagine never knowing your family.

A grunt. “Robin shouldn’t be a distraction,” he doesn’t sound as angry as he could be. “How long have you been planning this?”

Another shrug. “Not as long as you think.” Unlike Bruce, Dick doesn’t have an ulterior motive for everything. “I mean I’ve been thinking of changing suits for a while now, but I’ve only decided to pass Robin on to Jason since, like, November.” Give or take.

Bruce doesn’t say anything as they pull into the Cave, but Dick can tell he’s thinking about it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter, but things happen!

You’ve decided that January is the most boring month out of all of them. It’s cold—which you don’t mind—and dreary—which you do—and how can it have _nothing_ of interest happen in it?

Makes you almost glad for February, at least that has the promise of candy again.

Not that you have many people to give Valentines to. Just means you’ve got more chocolate for yourself. You tuck the horribly pun-filled Valentine card Dick gives you into the corner of your parent’s picture frame. It’s not the same thing as showing it to them, but you’d like to think they see it.

-

Saturday morning and you’re in the library sprawled over the couch trying to make sense of _Finnegan’s Wake_.

“Jay!” You yelp, just managing to keep yourself on the couch. You drop the book though. You make a face at that.

“What?” you grump at Dick, picking up the book and doing your best to smooth out the now folded pages.

He grabs your arms and tugs. “Come on! Got something to show you!” He sing-songs. You go with him, knowing he won’t stop tugging until you do. He gives you the chance to put your book down at least.

From the library you go to a room you’ve seen before but have rarely been in. You frown. There’s nothing here that’s new or stands out, so why he dragged you here is beyond you. Especially when he leads you to the broken, old grandfather clock. You’ve asked Mr. Wayne if you could fix it before, but he’d just shaken his head and said it’s fine.

Your frown melts away as Dick moves the hands on the clock and you hear gears moving as it swings open. Woah, hidden passage. Mouth agape, Dick has to give you a push to get you walking down the stairs. It’s cold down here and you shiver as you go further and further down.

“Close your eyes.” Dick tells you as you reach the bottom of the stairs. Considering it’s pitch black down here—all you can hear is movement and something that might be bats—you don’t get why. You do it anyways, because clearly that’s part of whatever it is Dick’s excited about.

The sound you hear next reminds you of old science fiction movies, heavy _chunks_ and the hum of electricity.

Dick moves around you, and his hands land on your shoulders. “Aaaand open them!”

You do, blink, rub your eyes, then blink again. As if what you see before you will change into something that sort of makes sense.

It doesn’t change and you’re left to stare at a huge cave full of oddities, sleek vehicles, and a case with… “Holy shit.” You feel this is the appropriate time to curse, because those are Batman and Robin’s outfits.

“Ta da!” Dick’s beaming at you as he grabs your hands again and pulls you along. “Pretty awesome right?” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond before continuing. “This is Bob the dinosaur, we fought him the first time I went out as Robin…”

-

Two hours later Mr. Wayne steps into the cave. You notice him, but you’re still being given a whirlwind tour and your brain’s sort of stuck on the fact that you’ve been living with Batman and Robin this whole time and never knew.

“...these are from that time we beat the condiment king, I couldn’t get the smell of mustard out of my hair for _weeks_. Good thing Kori didn’t mind. Oh hey Bruce. That’s where we keep the super secret stash of kryptonite that Superman gave us.”

Mr. Wayne clears his throat.

Dick stops talking and your brain screeches to a halt. Oh shit. You wish you could read Mr. Wayne’s expression better as he walks towards the two of you. It’s as stoney as ever, which must come in handy as Batman. He crouches down when he reaches you, blue eyes digging deep into you.

“I won’t tell anyone!” You blurt out. “I promise!” Not that you have anyone _to_ tell. The sentiment stands.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds more and you have to remind yourself that Batman doesn’t hurt kids. Not if he doesn’t have to. “I already knew Dick was going to show this to you Jason.”

You wobble and Dick’s hand on your shoulder keeps you from falling backwards. “Oh.”

A smile breaks through Mr. Wayne’s ice. “Knowing this is a big responsibility though. There are only a few other people besides yourself that have this secret because of how dangerous it is.”

A nod. You’ve seen some of the people Batman and Robin go up against on the news, them—and the rest of the world—knowing the truth would put a lot of people in danger. While you want to know who else might know you don’t ask. “I know.” You’ve never had a secret to keep, but you think you’ll be good at keeping it.

“There’s something else!” Dick’s smile could probably replace the sun. “What’d’ya think about becoming Robin?”

You open your mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. Instead you nod so enthusiastically that your neck starts to hurt. Becoming Robin would be _amazing_. Part of you can’t even believe you’re being asked.

Mr. Wayne’s hand rests on your shoulder. “You won’t be able to pick up the suit just yet Jason. A lot of training and work to do first. After all that though if you still want it, it’ll be yours.”

There’s not even a flicker of guilt as you think this might be the best day of your life, ever.


	8. Chapter 8

You’re glad you’re such a good student, otherwise the fact that training only takes place after you’ve done your homework would be unbearable. It doesn’t even matter that training’s harder than school ever is. Fairly certain it’s supposed to be that way.

Combat’s the easiest, a fact that seemed to catch Bruce—at this point you think you’ve got the right—off guard at first. Not that he’s the only one, you hadn’t known you’d be any good at it either.

Not that the rest of training is hard, just more work. How to collect evidence, do research, spotting people in disguise, how to craft a much better disguise, languages. A million details of a million little things. Work, but enjoyable in its own way, your brain happily consuming everything.

You find yourself even using some of it in school. Choosing your words more carefully when you answer questions, seeing how it does or doesn’t affect your classmates and teachers. It’s fun in its own right, and good practice.

On the other hand it’s got some interesting consequences.

-

You and about half the school are in the quad enjoying a rare day of April sun. As you eat lunch, rereading _Prisoner of Azkaban_ instead of studying for your history test, it happens. There you are, minding your own business when a neon yellow flyer gets slapped on your book. Rude.

Instead of reading the flyer you look up to stare at the young woman who ‘gave’ it to you. She looks to be a few years older than you, cool brown skin, tight black curls pulled back into a ponytail, her eyes are hazel and staring right back at you. The uniform she’s wearing is the usual girls one, well kept but a little ragged. One of the scholarship students then. You think her name might begin with an R? “What?”

“You could at least read the flyer Pond,” she grumps right back. Crossing her arms and staring at you even harder. Her knowing who _you_ are isn’t surprising; you might keep to yourself but you’re still the ward of Bruce Wayne.

Deciding to humor her, you do. When you finish you stare at her again, with surprise this time. “You want me to join debate team?”

“Yes I do.” She keeps her arms crossed, but you’re pretty sure she’d rather uncross them and do hand gestures. “I’ve seen you in class lately and you’ve got talent for it. I think you should use it instead of letting it go to waste in such an unimportant setting.”

“I…” don’t quite know how to feel about that. On the one hand it’s a little worrying that someone noticed, on the other it could be fun? “I’ve just gotten into a lot of theater lately, not exactly the same thing as debating.” Which is marginally true. Alfred let you tag along to one of his theater troop practices.

She’s a sharp one however. “Nothing wrong with a theater background, means that you know when to punch up the drama. Probably means you know how to enunciate properly too, which is more than I can say for some of our members.”

You’re starting to get the idea that she’s just going to beat down any other excuse you might think of, which speaks to her own talents that she can come up with counter arguments that fast. “I’ll think about it,” you hedge.

The smile she gives in response is bright. “Great! If you do decide to join the rest of us cool people tell the captain Rena dragged you in.” Turning around she gives a wave as she walks off. Leaving you a little bewildered.

While you’re technically not supposed to use phones during school hours you still pull yours out and open texts. _Debate team?_

It takes a minute but you get a reply from Bruce. _If you want_.

Great, now you’ve got to figure this out on your own.

-

Despite what might be better judgement—do you really need more on your plate?—you agree and are quickly sucked into the group. Even with Rena’s approval you’re still the newbie and find yourself stuck with mostly helping in research and prep, both of which suit you just fine.

Another month passes and you realize that even with everything you’ve got going on you feel invigorated. It might be a lot, but you think it’s the good sort of lot.

Like every student however, you find yourself counting down the days to summer vacation. Without school you’ll have far more time to focus on training and you’re eager for it. You want very much to be able to don the suit for real and go out with Batman. It’s the best/worst sort of waiting and it whispers along the edges of your mind like a song you get stuck in your head.

“I feel that way about my new identity,” Dick responds after you tell him about it. “I’ll always love Robin but yeah, it’s time to become someone new.” The two of you are practicing in the gym, acrobatics and flexibility being key skills to being Robin—according to Dick at least. “Should write you a guide book or something, for when I’m not here for you to bombard with questions.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Would not,” you protest. Shifting your weight you move to a one handed handstand, wobbling as your body tries to readjust.

“Would too,” Dick’s grin is as friendly as can be. You’re just glad that all the exercise is making you flush anyways. “Not saying you should stop Little Wing, curiosity's a good thing to have.”

True, doesn’t mean you’re sort of embarrassed to have it pointed out to you. The new nickname makes you blush too, more out of pleasure however. It’s just another little sliver of proof that Robin will be yours, soon. “Shut up.” Your elbow gives and you tuck into yourself to roll into an upright position.

Dick pushes himself off the mat, doing a little twist as he lands upright. “Come on, let’s do runs in the Cave.”

“Yeah!”

-

You lie awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your grades arrived earlier in the afternoon. They didn’t surprise you, they’re exactly the same as your semester grades, straight A’s. The pleasure at Bruce and Alfred’s pride, however had.

If you still had school, you’d be worried about being up so late, but even if you did still have school, you’re not sure you could sleep. Right now your grades are up on the fridge, there for everyone to see.

 _That_ you don’t mind, except...except it doesn’t feel right.

Giving up on sleeping you climb out of bed and make your way downstairs. With Alfred asleep, Bruce working in the cave, and Dick out with friends, you’re alone. Which is just how you want it. The kitchen tile is cold under your feet but you continue on anyways. You’ve got just enough light to make your way to the fridge, picking out the GA stationary by touch. Tugging it out from under the magnet you fold it up and make your way back to your room.

Going to your desk you take the photo of your parents, careful not to dislodge all of the things you’ve accumulated around it, and open the back, laying the folded paper in before closing it back up. Setting it upright, you stare at your parents faces. “I miss you,” your throat closes before you can say anything else.

But what else is there to say?

At breakfast the next morning, neither Alfred nor Bruce mention the missing paper.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: my editor/beta still can't believe Metropolis is in Delaware.

Summer in Gotham turns out to be hot and sticky and it’s not your favorite thing. True, the stickiness had been worse at Greystoke and only comes and goes in Gotham. Still. For the most part you avail yourself to air conditioning, the pool, cold drinks, and the cave—you’re not that sad that most of your freckles disappear as a result. Occasionally you brave the greenhouse to help Bruce with his roses.

You still have to be social from time to time on the other hand. Like with debate team meetings.

Or in this case 4th of July.

Dick is with the Titans so it’s just you, Bruce, and Alfred. For a change you all drive down to Metropolis. You’re glad for the sunglasses and Gotham Angels baseball cap when you step out of the car and into bright summer sun. Around you there are other families and people heading towards the streets that have been marked off for the parade route.

You all follow and join up with Mrs. Kent and Jon, who’ve already staked out their spot. Unfolding your camp chair you sink into it and rifle around in the cooler for a soda. “Where’s Mr. Kent?” You’d have thought he’d be there with them.

“He’s doing some last minute work before we head off to Smallville tomorrow,” she laughs as she says it.

Mr. Kent seems like the sort of person who wouldn’t put off work. Despite your training you’re not exactly willing to push more on that however, instead pulling out _Dark Force Rising_ and hoping you don’t sweat off your sunscreen in the next ten minutes. You’ve still got an hour or so before the parade starts, so a lot of time to read and think cold thoughts.

“Parade’s about to start Jason,” Bruce gives you a brief shake as well. You wish the parade picked a better time, Han and Luke just got put under arrest and now you _need_ to know what happens next. Need wars with your curiosity about the parade, but eventually you put your book down—better to save it for later.

As you watch the parade you decide it’s not bad, but perhaps not your favorite thing. There are some cool floats—the best ones toss out candy—and the marching bands are interesting. Overall though, you’d be fine with not suffering through the damn heat to watch another.

The big parade ender is, of course, Superman. Waving and flying around and generally being everyone’s favorite person. Not that he’s not cool, he _is_. But now you know that Bruce is Batman and works with him on a regular basis. You’re standing next to a man who could just walk up and start having a non-fan/press type conversation with Superman and it’s messing with your head.

He eventually flies around the corner and that’s that.

The parade might be over, but you all hang around for another hour or so. Alfred says it’s to help beat the traffic. You don’t mind, it means you get to finish your book—good thing you’ve got the third part in the car—and by the time you get pulled into helping pack up, Mr. Kent’s rushing to join them. “I missed it all didn’t I?” He sounds abashed but not all that disappointed.

“Sure did,” Mrs. Kent gives a broad smile and kisses his cheek. “I forgive you though.”

“Hope you enjoyed it enough for the both of us Jason,” he smiles at you. You can’t help but smile back.

“It was alright,” you agree. “More excited for the fireworks tonight.” You just hope no one tries to mess with them, a good possibility in Gotham. You’ll get to climb up onto the manor roof on the other hand, Bruce swears it’s the best view to watch the fireworks.

“Fireworks are always better,” he agrees. “So Bruce, you two going to the BBQ?” You don’t remember Bruce mentioning a BBQ, though you are hungry.

When you look at him though his face is its usual neutral expression. “Bruce?”

He gives a soft huff at your question. “Sorry Jason, not this year.” He ruffles your hair. “Next year when you’re more set though we could go. You can tell Dick we said hi when you see him Clark.” Bruce’s hand moves from your hair to your shoulder, firmly leading you back towards the car.

Why would Mr. Kent see Dick before you all do? Were Dick and the Titans going to be at this BBQ he’d mentioned? But unless they flew the Kents wouldn’t get to San Francisco in time for _any_ sort of BBQ. It’s perhaps a good thing your body walks on autopilot.

Wait...If Mr. Kent knew Dick was going to be at a BBQ, one you weren’t allowed to go to until next year, and was going there himself...that could reasonably imply that Mr. Kent knew Dick was in the Titans, that he knew Dick was _Robin_. Which would mean he was a superhero himself and...

You manage to save your freaking out until Alfred’s driving away at least. “How could you not tell me Clark’s Superman?!” You’re not quite embarrassed, but you’re sure those first few times you work with him as Robin are going to be...interesting on your end.

“I see the other cat is out of the other bag,” despite your embarrassment you manage a snigger at Alfred’s dry humor.

Before Bruce can even respond his phone chimes. He looks at it and huffs. “Clark says congratulations.”

Picking up _The Last Command_ you literally bury your face in it and groan.

-

Being called into Bruce’s office isn’t a new experience, but you find yourself on tenterhooks anyways. Why he’d want to talk to you in such a serious setting during the summer is beyond you. Even if you’ve only got a few weeks before school starts up again.

It’s not just Bruce waiting for you in there, but Dick too. His grin at you helps relax you some; if he’s this happy it can’t be too bad. Doesn't stop you from sort of frowning at the wrapped box you see in Bruce’s desk. “What’s this?”

“Happy birthday!!” Dick apparently can’t contain himself any longer. “Open it! Open it!”

You just keep staring at the box, then at Bruce. “It’s not my birthday.” Not that you know when it is. Kavorian’d never bothered to tell you or Mels, the two of you had just ended up picking arbitrary dates every year—it wasn’t as if you got cake or presents either way.

“No,” Bruce agrees. “But this is the day you first arrived in Gotham, we thought that was a good a date as any for now. Might as well open it before Dick opens it for you.”

Snatching up the present before Dick has the chance you go about opening it, taking your time with the wrapping and tape. It earns you some annoyed sounds from Dick, but he’s just going to have to live with it.

The box inside is unassuming cardboard, the size enough to hold all manner of things. Opening it, you’re faced with a pile of tissue paper. Unlike with the wrapping this you just send flying. Halfway through the paper you find it.

A dark green mask.

Your heart picks up. “Really?” It doesn’t even matter that you sound breathless.

Bruce smiles and Dick’s grin grows even bigger. “Welcome to the Robin club, Jason!”

-

“Woohoo!” You crow, body feeling somehow weightless as you swing after Batman. The warm night air feels perfect and something thrums through your bones.

The both of you land on the GCPD building and that feeling grows. “Robin.”

You roll your eyes at the faint warning note in Batman’s voice. ‘Woohoo’ was quite tame you think, you could’ve gone and quoted Peter Pan. As he walks towards the Commissioner you sneak around and hop up onto the signal. It’s warm, but not uncomfortable. “Hey Commish!” You beam. Your voice sounds strange thanks to your own vocal modifier, it’s going to take some getting used to.

Jason Pond might’ve been quieter, kept to himself more. You’re not Jason Pond anymore, you’re _Robin_ , who’s not afraid of anything and loves a good laugh.

He stares at you and you try to surreptitiously scratch the itch on the back of your neck. Stupid wig.

“Sale at the Robin store?” He gives Batman a _look_.

With confidence you move from a crouch to a handstand. “Naw. I’m handmade awesome.” You launch yourself into a short flip and stand next to Batman, hands on your hips. “What’s the sitch?”

Batman’s hand rests on your shoulder. You make a face but fall silent. “The situation Gordon?”

Gordon sighs and pulls a cigarette pack out of his pocket. “Break in at Landon Chemicals. Mr. Freeze escaped Arkham. Heard Croc might be back in the sewers.” He looks at you. “Gotham pulled out all the stops for your first night, kid.”

“Freeze will want to lay low for a while. I’ll have Nightwing and Batgirl look into Croc. Robin and I’ll take the break in.” You resist the urge to make another face. Evidence gathering is _not_ exciting. “Let us know if anything new pops up.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gordon flicks his lighter. “I know how to reach ya.”

You and Batman fly off, and even with something as boring as an investigation you still feel like this is the best night ever.

-

Behind Bruce, Jason babbles excitedly to Alfred, recounting seemingly every second of tonight. Not bothering to hide his smile at Jason’s enthusiasm Bruce types up his report. The break in looks like it might have been Ivy, but something about it seemed off. Someone setting her up to take the fall?

“I do believe it’s time for you to go to bed, Master Jason. As all good birds should.” Even now Alfred’s voice has a habit of pulling Bruce back into the moment at large.

“Awwww.” Fighting back his smile Bruce swivels around in the chair. “Shower, then bed.” He gestures Jason closer. The boy’s already taken off his wig, and as Bruce looks at him he’s glad he insisted on it. Jason’s too memorable without it. “Good job out there tonight, Jason.” He rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “See you in the morning.” Alfred’s hand lands on Jason’s other shoulder and guides him away.

Turning back to the computer, Bruce finds he can’t focus like he should. Seeing _Jason_ as Robin has reminded him of the secret he’s keeping.

He’s scoured high and low, called in more than a few favors at various agencies and with various people. Hell, he’d even had Booster Gold check records in the 35th century—it turned out that in a few decades there would be a cop in the GCPD by the name of Rory Pond, but with no one even close to being called Amy associated with him, Bruce had discarded it as coincidence.

No matter how hard he looks, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, and Melody Pond never appear.

Bruce should tell Jason, let the boy come to terms with the fact that he might never see his family again. A laugh that isn’t a laugh leaves Bruce. Seems to be _his_ superpower, drawing boys with no family to him. He shakes his head. Jason deserves to know, deserves to grieve.

Jason’s happy though. If he tells him, who knew what would happen. Does he deserve that?

With a sigh Bruce turned off the Batcomputer. Next year, he’ll tell the boy next year.


	10. Chapter 10

“One of the new scholarship students is on the Titans.”

You duck under Bruce’s punch. Using the momentum you try to sweep his legs out, but he leaps up. You roll out of the way before he can kick you. “Are you going to tell me which, or is it going to be a test?” It’s only half a gripe. You’ve only been Robin for a month now, it wouldn’t be surprising if it _was_ a test.

The thoughtful look on Bruce’s face suggests he _wasn’t_ going to make it a test, but now that you’ve asked about it… “Oh, come on,” full on griping now. You’re unashamed of it. Bruce rushes you and you bound to the right. “If you were gonna tell me, you should just tell me.” Making it a test after the fact is just _mean_.

“Be good for you investigative skills.” He charges again. You’re against a wall but… reaching up, you feel a pipe and use it to haul yourself up and over, rolling into a ball mid air so he can’t grab your legs.

You hate to admit it, but he’s sort of right. Fighting you’re pretty damn good at, same with acrobatics—if not as good as Dick. _Finding_ clues and the like is also pretty easy for you, but actually putting it all together still takes you a while. It’s like everything’s got to sit in your brain for a few days before it gives you the answer. Which isn’t bad, except when there’s a time limit. It’s not that it’s not interesting, but you find your brain wants to focus on other things first.

The leftover momentum from your roll gets you upright when you hit the floor. Leaping, you get onto Bruce’s back. One arm wraps around his throat and your fingers press against his carotid. When his fingers pinch the back of your arm you let go and side off.

“Good. You get two questions about them.”

Go for the most direct that will get you the answer the fastest? Or something that’ll make you work for it? “Older or younger than me?” Good middle of the road question.

“Older.” Which narrows the pool down more than you thought it would. There aren’t many people who transfer to GA when they’re older, too entrenched in where they were before to even contemplate. The answer basically narrows it down to three people: Jonathan Ezra, Monique Gutierrez, and Artemis Nguyen. You stop yourself before you can think more on it however.

“Who do they work with?” Not all of the Titans are sidekicks like you are, but it’s a greater than normal average. It won’t help you narrow it down, but it’s a good question in general.

“Green Arrow.”

Now _that’s_ surprising. “Why aren’t they in Star City then?” Should be a given.

Bruce arches an eyebrow. “Born and raised in Gotham, why should they have to move even if Green Arrow agreed to take them on?” You’d half hoped Bruce’d slip and reveal the person’s gender. No such luck.

He’s also got you there. No rule saying sidekicks have to stay with their hero. “When do I get to join the Titans?” Hard not to make it petulant. Dick just talks about them so much that you want to meet them sooner rather than later. True you’ll likely be as shy around them as you are most people, but still.

“Few more months,” a smile tugs at Bruce’s lips. “Need to get you better settled, give it some more time.” You follow him as he leaves the gym and heads towards the Batcomputer. “Dick’s been hinting that he’ll take you in January, I’m sure it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Do my best to act surprised then when it happens.” Even with Bruce’s comments you’re sure when it happens you’ll be suitably amazed. Moving back conversation wise you ask. “What if I don’t want to figure out who it is?” Granted you’ve already asked your questions and you’re sure when you meet the Titans it’ll be obvious.

Your question catches Bruce by surprise. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I mean I won’t be able to tell them who I am,” you’d like to though. At the moment the only people outside the family who know who you are is Clark, Diana and Dick’s ex, Kori—Bruce hadn’t exactly been happy when Dick let that little fact slip—and they’re all much older than you. You’d like someone your own age you could talk to about things. “So why should I get to know who they are?”

Seeing Bruce baffled by a question is something of a treat. With a roll of your eyes you give him a friendly shove. “Not everyone needs to know everything like you do, Bruce.”

He apes a hurt expression, and it’s nice for him to play along with your teasing. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know if Alfred has dessert ready.” You yelp as he scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads back up towards the manor. “So how about we head up and we can go over those talking points of yours for debate after finding out.”

“Bruuuucce.” You whack his shoulder to no avail. “The worst,” you declare.

-

It’s easy enough to distract yourself from finding out who your future teammate might be. Helps that they’re in higher classes than you are, you’re less likely to run across them.

Monique is the exception, since Rena recruited her too. She, however, is fairly unassuming. It’s either not her or she’s a much better actress than you’ve encountered. You’re leaning towards the former, but wouldn’t mind being pleasantly surprised come January.

What time you don’t spend on homework or debate gets taken up by more training and on the weekends, patrol. A year ago you wouldn’t believe your life could get so busy but here you are.

-

Batman’s off with the League tonight, that doesn’t mean the rest of you get to slack off. Batwoman’s letting you tag along. It had been fun to see her tease Nightwing and Batgirl about getting distracted before swinging off at the start of patrol.

A streak of black cuts across a rooftop and you follow Batwoman as she takes chase. There’s that now familiar thrum in your bones and excitement in your veins, and if you could catch your breath you’d shoot off a quip of some sort.

Four rooftops and a fire escape later you’ve got the person cornered. “Catwoman.” You try to make like you’re not staring, but this is only the third of the infamous rogue’s gallery you’ve met, and the only one who toes the line when it pleases her. “What’d you do this time?”

Catwoman is clearly disappointed Batwoman isn’t Bat _man_ , although even accounting for that her pout is exaggerated. “Now what makes you think I’ve stolen anything? Perhaps I just wanted a bit of fun, or to meet the new bird.” She flashes a lush smile at you. “Not much different from the last one.”

It’s hard not to bristle about the comment. Even knowing Catwoman _doesn’t_ know who you are, even if the reverse isn’t true, she’s acting like she does. Like she knows the wig bothers you. You straighten your shoulders. “I could take you.”

“Robin.” Kate’s less fun when she’s in the cape, even if she is right. “If you’re not here to cause trouble then go home Catwoman. Unlike Batman, I’m not up for flirting with you and I’d rather not spend the time worrying you’re up to something unless you really are.”

“Alright,” a deep sigh. “If I must.” She unspools her whip and with a flick of her wrist gets it around the fire escape. “We could’ve had a thing.” You’re kind of jealous of how graceful she moves. “You might want to check out 25th and Robertson though,” she calls out before disappearing over the roof.

Batwoman shakes her head. “Come on kiddo, let’s go check it out.”

You update Nightwing and Batgirl as Kate drives her motorcycle through the streets. Under your helmet you’re grinning like a loon and you’re certain you want one for yourself when you’re older...even if they are more dangerous than cars.

The corner of 25th and Robertson turns into a drug bust and it’s easy to slip into the rhythm of the fight, toe the line between serious injury and bumps and scrapes. Something in the back of your mind whispers you could go harder, make it so they don’t come back at all. They’re just intrusive thoughts on the other hand, and you brush them aside. B’s told you more than once that these people don’t always mean to fall into this life, but once they’re there it’s hard for them to get out. Killing them isn’t the answer.

Batwoman’s calling the GCPD helps you shake off the last of your wandering thoughts. You’re grateful those thoughts didn’t earn _you_ more than a few small cuts.

“If you two are done over there,” Batgirl sounds fond. “We could use some refreshments at this here stakeout.”

“We’re not a delivery service,” you do the best Batman impression that you can, earning you laughter.

Batwoman’s rolling her eyes, even if you can’t see it. “Do you really want food, or are you not so subtly asking me to drop off Robin to play chaperone?” A grin slashes her red lips.

You stick your tongue out at her.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanksgiving this year has all the same people, but seems infinitely more interesting. Although as much as you like having Gordon, you kind of wish he wasn’t there so you all could talk hero stuff.

Not that you’d get much chance. Jon is two now and walking confidently, and as second youngest you’ve been designated toddler-minder so Clark and Mrs. Kent can have adult conversations. “Up!” With his parents, you’d think Jon’d be less demanding.

“It’ll be nice when you learn to fly, you can do all the ‘up’ you want, no energy on my part.” That’d be something. Maybe Clark’s got some super-strength child harness so Jon doesn’t go wandering off and causing more chaos than a two year old should. “Course then I’ve got to think of a way to get you _down_ so everyone else doesn’t get mad at me.”

“Fly!” Jon agrees. He even makes a ‘zwoosh’ noise, purple eyes going wide. You groan into the top of his head. Are all toddlers this cute? You might have to hand him off to someone else for a time so you don’t have some sort of cuteness overload or something. Saying you wanted to eat Jon might not go over all that well.

Adjusting your hold on him, you lift him over your head. “It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No! It’s the amazing flying Jon!” You run down the hall, Jon’s squeals egging you on.

-

“I’m gonna die. Can you imagine the headline tomorrow? ‘Ward of Bruce Wayne Panics Himself to Death’. I probably wouldn’t even _get_ the headline, or even above the fold.” You run both your hands through your hair. You’re _Robin,_ this shouldn’t stress you out.

“You can do it Pond,” Rena sounds far too cheerful. “This isn’t even the dealbreaker debate, so cool your jets, dude.” Says her. “Gotta say though, seems like _all_ the press’re out there chomping at the bit to get pics of dear ol’ Brucie.” She rolls her eyes.

That’s not exactly helping with your worry. It’s not like this is your first actual debate or anything and you’re freaking out about stumbling over your words or forgetting how to speak at all.

Rena crouches down, expression more serious. “Deep breaths Jason. Don’t go borrowing more trouble than you’ve already got alright? If you need to go find yourself a quiet corner and take some you time, we can survive without you for a few minutes.”

You give her a shaky smile, thankfully retreating to an out of the way bit of hall backstage. Pulling your legs to your chest, you bury your face in your knees. Doing those deep breathing exercises Dick taught you, you listen to the low murmur of the press turn into a dull roar. Bruce must’ve arrived then.

It’s nice that he did come, even if you could do without the press. Maybe next time you’ll insist he come in disguise.

Your phone buzzes and your hand fumbles it for a second before you answer. “Hello?”

“Good luck Robin!” A chorus of voices you don’t recognize, and one you do. Dick’s cheer is unmistakable, even amongst the Titan’s own cheerful voices.

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan leaves you. “Thanks, Nightwing.” Despite your conflicting emotions you’re smiling. Part of you wants to go over the cheer again and see if you can pick out other voices, but it’s too late now.

“No problem Little Wing!” Dick must have switched back from speakerphone, the voices of the other Titans growing fainter. “I mean that’s what a team’s for right?”

You stretch your legs out, curving your feet so the toes of your shoes are in line. “Not exactly my team yet.” Bruce had mentioned January, but that’s still a month away.

“Wellll,” how Dick manages to smile through his voice alone is a trick you’d like to know. “I know winter break starts on Friday for you. Could pick you up after school on Friday. Batplane doesn’t take that long to fuel…”

“Really?” Excitement and joy bubble away the rest of your nerves.

Dick laughs. “Consider it an early Christmas present. Talk to you then?”

On the stage the moderator’s voice cuts through everything, giving a few minutes warning. “Yeah! See you then, gotta go!” Hanging up, you bounce onto your feet.

-

Artemis sits at the kitchen island fletching arrows. Ollie has a machine that can do it about four times as fast as she can by hand. She still likes doing it the old fashioned way; it gives her something to do while still being able to talk to people and quasi-pretend to be social. Like right now.

M’gann’s floating around the kitchen humming to herself as she finishes baking cupcakes for the welcoming party. Across the peninsula in the great room Beast Boy’s somehow managed to convince Raven to play Ocarina of Time—there’s been lots of pot smashing and ‘hiyah!’ Kaldur had excused himself earlier to do laps around the pool, and Kori was waiting up on the roof for Nightwing and Robin, the soon to be newest member of the Titans.

It’d be nice not to be the newest member anymore, but Artemis otherwise can’t say she’s all that enthused. M’gann more than makes up for that. “I know Nightwing said he’d pretty much eat anything but I hope he likes them. Oh! I need to make the punch!”

Artemis doesn’t bother to hold back her smile as she slices another feather. M’gann’s taken some getting used to, but she prefers the Martian’s chatter to the other girls at Gotham Academy. Then again she still can’t believe she got a scholarship to a school she didn’t apply to in any way shape or form. At first she’d thought it’d been Ollie’s doing, he knew Bruce Wayne after all. Turns out it was Batman, and whenever she manages to run into the Caped Crusader she’s gonna give him a piece of her mind about that. Expensive does not mean _better_ , and now she doesn’t know anyone and is spending more time than she’d like on homework.

“OH! Artemis,” M’gann pulls her out of the angry funk she’d been building up, probably a good thing. “So Raven and I found this little Asian market the other day and since you gave me those recipes I thought we’d duck in and I could see if I could find stuff.” She disappears into the pantry. “There was so much interesting stuff! I could’ve spent hours in there looking around but we had a mission. Most of the ingredients were easy to find actually, but I had trouble with the noodles.” She floats back out, arms full of packages. “So I kind of just bought a bunch and hoped you’d know the right ones.” She beams as she offers the cellophane wrapped noodles.

“These ones,” she pulls out ones that look like she remembers from visits to her grandparents. She and mom don’t cook Vietnamese at home all that often; when M’gann had asked for recipes it’d caught her by surprise. She didn’t quite have the heart to tell the other girl yet that Artemis’d found those recipes online and only written them on notecards to make them seem more old.

M’gann beams. “Awesome! Maybe I could make bún bò hué tomorrow then? And I know the card says you only serve it during lunar new year but bánh tét sounds so good! Do you think’d be okay to make tomorrow too?”

Putting down her pocket knife Artemis pats M’gann on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks,” M’gann laughs. She goes and puts all the other noodle packages away and returns to icing cupcakes. Artemis is about to pick up her knife again and cut her last feather when M’gann freezes than whirls around. “They’re here!” Without warning she thrusts another bag full of icing at Artemis. “Help me finish frosting, quick!! Gar go get Kaldur!”

She might roll her eyes, but Artemis still gets up and helps with the frosting.

-

You rock back and forth on your feet as you stand on the roof of Titans Tower. Dick hadn’t been joking about only needing t-shirts and hoodies; San Francisco is practically _balmy_ and not a snowflake in sight.

“It’s nice to meet you, Robin,” Koriand’r smiles at you. You try not to stare at her. She might be the second alien you’ve met, but she looks far more otherworldly than Clark does—orangish skin and fully green eyes will do that. Her hair’s pretty cool though, dark red running into a golden-yellow. “You can call me Kori like everyone else does, and if you need anything I’m always available for help.”

Your own smile is a bit shy. “Thanks.”

Dick’s hand lands on your shoulder. “Ready to meet everyone else Little Wing?”

“Yeah.” You might have been excited for this in general. That doesn’t mean you’re not nervous _now_. Will they like you? Will you like them?

Kori and Dick _have_ to notice how nervous you are, yet both just talk about some new art exhibit at a local gallery as the elevator rides down towards the common rooms. Your mask and wig both seem to itch—you wish you didn’t have to wear either. It’s not _hard_ to scratch both without looking like you are, you don’t exactly like it either. Granted you’re lucky you managed to convince Bruce that your vocal modifier was overkill when you were in the Tower. Dick was a big help in that department.

The elevator pings and then you’re following Dick and Kori down a short hallway and into a large room that has an _amazing_ view of the Pacific. A throat clearing draws your attention back to the fact that there are other people here and there pretty much goes your chance of not making a fool of yourself. You got that over with on the other hand? The next time won’t be so embarrassing. You can’t be the only one who’s gawped when they first arrived.

“Everyone,” Dick rests his hand on your shoulder again, going on as if the moment never happened. “This is my little brother, Robin.” You both do and don’t mind the lie. “Robin this is Raven,” she gives a hint of a smile. “Gar.”

Despite everything you’ve got to laugh when he turns into a robin and settles in your hair. “Hey dude.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “Miss M.”

She floats over and shakes your hand enthusiastically. “It’s so nice to meet you Robin. I made cupcakes and I hope you like them! You can call me M’gann, or Megan, or Miss M. Whichever you prefer.” She beams. You’re pleasantly bemused.

“Kaldur.”

Who gently dislodges M’gann—you try not to smile at that—and shakes your hand as well. If with less enthusiasm. “I look forward to working with you.”

“And last but not least Artemis.”

You’re very much grateful that the mask means no one can tell you’re staring. You went through a whole mental struggle to _not_ figure out who the GA student might be, and she just goes and doesn’t seem to care. Artemis flicks her dark blonde hair over her shoulder. “Nice to meet you I guess.”

“Cupcakes!” M’gann grabs your hands again, pulling you towards the kitchen peninsula hard enough to dislodge Gar off your head.

“Hey!”

M’gann doesn’t even notice Gar’s outburst. “I made chocolate and vanilla since I didn’t know which you might like. We’re gonna make pizzas for dinner, Nightwing wouldn’t say if you were vegetarian or not so I just bought extra veggies in case. Extra meat too if you like that.”

“Sounds delicious, thanks. And the cupcakes look amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A third of the way done y'all! Also Artemis finally appears.


	12. Chapter 12

You hit the ground and just sort of lay there. “Win to Raven,” the computer announces.

“You alright Robin?” Raven’s head comes into your line of vision, her purple eyes concerned.

“Fine,” you groan. “Just got caught off guard.” You’ve gotten so used to sparring with other members of your ‘family’ that going up against someone new is taking some getting used to. It’s good for you on the other hand. You are excited for Saturday when there’ll be sparring _with_ powers, not exactly much chance to do that back home.

Sitting up you stretch and roll your shoulders. “Another?” This time you might be able to rack up a win; she favors her right when she punches.

“Sorry, I’ve got to meditate.” Her smile is wan. “See you at dinner, unless something comes up.”

You wave as she leaves, rolling back onto your feet. You do a few more stretches as you make your way to the kitchen. Without M’gann there is feels oddly empty, but you make yourself a few sandwiches anyways and take a seat. A few minutes later you regret not having a book to read—you’ve got a few on your phone, but it’s not the same to you.

Not that you have much chance to regret that. Artemis takes the seat across from you, her dark eyes narrowed. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No I haven’t,” not exactly easy to hold back your wince at that poor denial. It’s all on you, you haven’t exactly changed your position on wanting to have friends your age, although Artemis is a good two years older than you. _But_. The realization that when winter break’s over you’ll just be Jason Pond, the kind of aloof weirdo, to her is there. Nothing you do as Robin will connect and it’s making you feel awkward around her and yeah...

Her eye roll is a superpower all it’s own. “Right. I know avoiding and you’re the textbook definition at the moment.” Her eyes narrow. “I mean if you don’t like me that’s fine, just damn well tell me okay? No trying to spare me my feelings.” Her honesty’s nice.

“It’s not that,” you protest. “I’d tell you but Batman told me not to.”

Artemis looks at you askance. “I mean I need to give Batman a piece of my mind anyways. We could team up. He’d probably beat us, eventually. Put up a good fight until then.” A sharp grin.

You laugh. That’d be something. “I don’t know, I like being Robin.” It’s been four months but it already feels like Robin is well and truly yours. You don’t want to give that up. Will your parents be proud of you when you find them? Finding yourself not hungry anymore you push your plate away from you. “I’m sorry about the past week. Could we maybe start over?” It’s worth a shot.

“Yeah okay, Boy Wonder.”

-

 _‘Robin!’_ M’gann’s mental shout—a weird concept for Artemis still—rings out as the boy goes rolling.

He bounds up a few seconds later however, tossing a bataring—robin-rang?—at one of Brother Blood’s goons. _‘I’m fine.’_ Artemis would worry more but she’s got to focus, picking off stragglers and anyone trying to sneak up on her team.

Before she can blink, Kaldur’s next to her, one of his waterbearers striking out behind her. “You need to watch your back too, Artemis.”

“Thanks.” It’s taking some getting used to, trusting others. She likes it, on the other hand.

He stays next to her, the fight basically over. Starfire and Raven are overseeing cleanup—Gar must’ve notified the authorities. Artemis finds herself biting back a smile as M’gann rushes Robin, clearly not trusting his assurances that he’s okay. Her mental link fades away and Artemis is alone in her head again.

“He still needs work,” she follows Kaldur as they go to join everyone else.

Artemis doesn’t bother to hold back her snort. “He’s still a kid, and pretty new to the whole team thing by his own admission.” That’s what training and practice are for though.

“True. Certainly none of us were expecting Brother Blood today.” He’s got that wry smile on his face.

“Kaldur,” they’re close enough now that Kori nods at them. “Are you suggesting that Brother Blood’s like the Spanish Inquisition?” Even if he might not get the reference she can’t help the tease, sometimes it’s too easy.

Robin and Gar burst into laughter while Kori rolls her eyes. In a surprise M’gann—well alright she’s not too much of a surprise, Mars was still in the Earth seventies when she left—and Raven both look clueless. Kaldur heaves a sigh.

-

As much as you enjoyed being with the Titans you’re also glad to be going home—easy now to ignore the twinge that thought brings. You’re not the only one waiting too, Artemis coming along for the ride back to Gotham.

She seems disappointed that it’s Nightwing again, and you are a bit, too. You guess you’ll just have to tell Bruce and Alfred everything together. Dick grins and ruffles your wig. You’ve worn it now for two weeks straight—not non-stop thank God—and you want to rip it off and burn it. “Have fun Little Wing?”

Artemis already knows how uncool you can be, so you don’t bother to hold back the gushing “yeah!” Even the training’d been fun; you’re definitely going to be better prepared for whatever Gotham might throw at you.

Buckling into the jet is old hat now and you settle in for the few hours’ flight back to Gotham. You’ve got some books to read—batplanes don’t come with their own in-flight entertainment sadly—but you don’t want to leave Artemis out. Instead you find yourself fishing your tablet out. “I’ve got a few multiplayer games,” you offer. Talking to Dick can wait for later, too.

The smile Artemis gives isn’t exactly unhappy, but you find you don’t know what else to call it. “Sure.”

You get her at Scrabble, but she trounces you in Ticket to Ride. Things start to ease up as you trade the tablet between the two of you and trade a few good-natured barbs. “Hey,” she quirks an eyebrow at you but doesn’t look up from the screen. “So I know you’re GA’s sidekick, but since you live in Gotham do you...wanna go patrolling together some night?” You go from staring at her intently to looking at anywhere _but_ her.

“Okay.” Her agreement has you looking back at her in surprise. She looks surprised too, happy though. You find yourself glad you asked. She rattles off her number and you type it into your phone.

Eventually you both agree to stop playing games and you retreat to your books. Dick’s comment about stop-over in ten takes you aback. When you look out the glass however you see Gotham rapidly approaching. At a distance it almost looks welcoming. Or maybe it’s just welcoming to you.

Dick does stop the plane over East Gotham, Artemis climbing out and leaping onto the nearby rooftop. You pointedly keep yourself from watching where she goes. Batman probably knows her home address, but you don’t need to.

“Sooo,” Dick drawls as he pulls up and starts heading further east towards the ocean. “You got a crush, Little Wing?”

“Nooo,” you answer slowly. You understand what he means, but the concept is a strange one to you. You know about sex and stuff—you’d discovered a small collection of romance novels in the library and devoured them like you did every other book that catches your fancy—it interests you in an abstract sort of way. “I just,” you give a small shrug. “Want a friend.”

He doesn’t say anything until after he’s landed the plane in the Cave. Unbuckling from the pilot’s seat he pulls you into a tight hug. “Good luck with that then, and I’m happy you’re trying to make friends.”

You hug him back. “Thanks, Dick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the shorter chapter this week. Also guess who realized she mis-numbered her chapters thanks to this chapter...


	13. Chapter 13

It’s a few days to Christmas and late at night. You’ve discovered that while you might like the cold, this is ridiculous. “How’d he do this?” Your teeth aren’t quite chattering, but it’s a close thing. It’d be better if you were out running across rooftops, but you’re on stakeout with Batgirl. Pulling your cape around you only does so much.

She snorts. “You know Nightwing, always gotta be moving.” Even as she talks she keeps her focus on the building across from them. Two witnesses in Marcone’s trial are there and you and she are watching to make sure nothing happens. “He liked showing off too much to worry about anything important getting frostbite.”

“Hey!” Nightwing’s voice is full of mock offense.

“Can’t be mad if it’s true, man wonder,” she teases back.

You roll your eyes. “Can I get pants for Christmas? That’d be great.”

Batgirl laughs and Nightwing protests even more.

“Check in,” Batman’s voice doesn’t quite cut through the good-natured fun. It does refocus them, all of you settling some.

“Everything’s good over here, no signs of unusual activity. Last clear from the police on watch inside was fifteen minutes ago.” Batgirl sums up. “Nightwing?”

“Got someone on this end, looks homeless though. Gonna drop down and point them towards the warming shelter on Holden.” He keeps his comm open and you all let the brief conversation float by. “Clear,” Nightwing says when it’s over. He’s on the other side of the building but you can picture him settling back down.

Batman grunts. “Good.” He clicks off, leaving you all to your own devices again.

You take a deep breath, fighting off a shiver. “You want something to drink?” It might help distract you from the cold at the very least. Shouldn’t take you too long to duck into the corner store either.

“Coffee’d be nice, thanks.” She smiles at you.

“I’d like coffee too!” Nightwing pipes in.

Even though he can’t see it you stick your tongue out. “None for you. It’s your fault I’m freezing my butt off.” Batgirl’s smile turns into a grin.

With ease you drop from the rooftop down into the street. It appears empty but you keep your guard up, just in case. Like you’d thought it only takes a minute to get to the corner store, a sort of embarrassed pleasure filling you when you see the little R in the window. You still find yourself snagging some cash out of your utility belt; they might refuse payment from you but you’ll still leave a nice big tip.

The older woman at the counter smiles at you when you step in. You do your best to smile back, enjoying the warmth that starts to sink into you as you head back towards the coffee machine. Easy enough to make Babs’ coffee, and they even have the French vanilla creamer she likes. The tea options leave a lot to be desired—you blame Alfred for spoiling you—so you make yourself a heavy-on-hot-cocoa-powder mocha and hope for the best.

“Thank you,” you tell the woman as you go up to the counter.

She waves you off like you expected. “Think nothing of it, sweetie.” While she’s looking at you, you slip a ten into the tip jar. “We just want to help in whatever way we can.” She looks like she might reach out and pinch your cheek but you turn and walk out, calling out another thanks as you go.

It feels even _more_ bitterly cold than it did before, makes you almost regret heading inside. “Heading back your way BG.” Getting back up onto the roof with your hands full will be a challenge, but it’s one you look forward too. It takes longer than you’d like, but you make it. “Here.”

She takes her cup and hands you the binoculars. “Thanks, Robin.” You settle on the edge of the roof, keeping your cup between your thighs. Through the binoculars you see one of the witnesses go into the kitchen. “Next police check’s in ten,” she says, joining you.

Making a sound of acknowledgement you shift the binoculars into one hand and pick up your own cup in the other, popping off the lid and doing your best to make sure the steam doesn’t fog up the glass. It’s not your best work, drink-wise, but you’ll live. As you drink you realize you probably should’ve gotten snacks too, oh well.

Soon enough you get the ‘all clear’ from the police inside. Neither of you relax, but it’s good to know things are alright. “Nightwing? How’s it over there?”

“Can’t...tell...too cold...and tired.”

Batgirl snorts. “Gonna start calling you _baby_ wonder, you keep that act up.”

“So mean! I’m going to abandon the both of you, see if I don’t.” You and Batgirl share an eye roll.

“Oh no, Nightwing,” your deadpan’s Batman worthy. “Whatever shall we do without you?”

“First off,” Nightwing’s tone is huffy. “Y’all wouldn’t be half as cool if I weren’t here. Second, so much for the Robin code.”

“Nothing about having to stick together, Nightwing,” you shoot back playfully. Egging him on. Batgirl snatches the binoculars from you with a huff of her own.

“Birds of a feather, Robin, geeze! Third, I just saw two men break in through the back. Moving in.”

You and Batgirl leap into action as well, swinging across the street and yanking one of the apartment windows open. One of the officers has her hand on her gun before she recognizes you. “At least two suspects heading this way, get the witnesses out.” Batgirl’s tone brooks no arguments. Before either officer can respond the two of you are out the apartment door and jogging to the stairwell.

Halfway down you both encounter the men. Batgirl lunges at one and you punch the other. A few flights below you can hear Nightwing tussling with someone else. Knocking out yours, you swing down to Nightwing. “Who’s here to get flocked?” You grin.

-

Christmas this year is different from last, although you find out that in actuality last year’s Christmas was the odd one out. Instead of staying at the manor and doing all sorts of things together you, Bruce, and Dick head out after opening presents. You feel kind of bad that Alfred has to do all the cooking for dinner alone, but he assured you that he would be fine.

In moderate disguises—you’re sure if someone looked hard enough they’d be able to tell it was Bruce Wayne and his wards—the three of you head out and eventually make it to one of the many soup kitchens in Crime Alley.

The man who runs the place greets you all with a smile and ushers you into the kitchen, and before you can blink you’re in an apron running around helping get food to the servers.

It’s satisfying work, even hours later. Helping people in a different way, but helping them all the same feels good. Even Bruce is smiling, a real one and not the one he plasters on for photographers. Who are thankfully absent due to said disguises and careful planning. Probably the way Bruce would prefer to live his life if he’d been given the choice.

During a brief break you collapse into one of the chairs and do some easy leg stretches. It’s no patrol, but being on your feet for hours on end still hurts. Like patrol, you know this is more than worth it on the other hand.

-

School is back in session and Artemis is only surviving a little better than she was before break. It’s not that the work is _hard_ , it’s just that there’s more of it. More difficult to slip under the radar here as well, GA not being quite as diverse as GEH. Except for a few rich assholes who think having a trophy Asian girlfriend would be great, she’s been pretty left alone. On the other hand, she’d dealt with those assholes just like mom and Jade taught her to.

It is nice also that the other scholarship students have helped out when she’s asked. She still misses hanging out with Cathy, Jorge, and Andrew every day, but she could see herself making a few new friends here. It’s not like the Titans, but she’s okay with that.

Lunch is a welcome breather from classes and she joins the rest of the students filing into the cafeteria. At the scholarship table—and how 80s does that freaking sound?—Betty waves her over and pats the seat next to her. “Artemis! How’s your break?”

 _Oh, you know. Fought a few bad guys, met the most socially awkward bird. The usual_. It’s a hard thing for Artemis not to roll her eyes at her own thoughts. “Not bad. Nice to get away from school for a while. You?”

“Oh God do I feel that, girl,” Betty groans. “I can’t believe I’m voluntarily going to college in the fall. Probably going to murder someone by the end of it.” She laughs and Artemis has to remind herself that joking about it doesn’t mean _doing_ it—she however doesn’t like the fact the off hand comment makes her miss her sister.

Artemis’ own laughter is weak when she joins in. “Good luck with that,” she’s not sure which part she means. Maybe mom’s suggestion of a shrink wasn’t that bad an idea. She resists the urge to groan and rub the bridge of her nose.

A lunch tray clatters into the spot across from them, Monique falling onto the bench. “Oh my God I might try to strangle Rena this afternoon.” What was it today with everyone threatening violence on others?

In the spot next to Monique another tray gets set down and Jason Pond sits. “Please don’t,” he sounds cheerful. “She’d try to make me debate captain while she recovers and I am _not_ taking on that much stress.” Brown eyes stare at her. “Artemis right? Nice to meet you. I’d ah, introduce myself,” a blush steals across his cheeks, he’s kinda cute in a kid way. “But you know who I am already.”

Of course she did. She’d seen the Wayne blow up over the paps swarming Pond last year, and the ensuing interview in the _Planet_. Part of her wants to ask what it’s like living with Wayne, but she’s sure Pond is sick and tired of those. “Nice to meet you too.” He doesn’t seem as stuck up as the other rich kids, which is nice. Probably helps that he’s like only thirteen or something, fewer asshole hormones before puberty.

Niceties out of the way, Pond turns his attention back to talking Monique down. She wishes him good luck on that. Betty looks like she might jump across the table and either ask Pond for an autograph—why she’d want that when he’s not exactly famous-famous is beyond Artemis—or smother him in a hug.

To head off either Artemis knocks knees with her. “What’s your deal?” She hisses it, hoping to not draw attention to them.

“Do you think if I ask him he’ll get Dick Grayson’s autograph for me?” She hisses it back, but unfortunately for her she says it in a lull in Pond and Monique’s conversation. Betty turns bright red as she realizes everyone heard her.

She’s not the only one, but Pond quickly hides it by burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God,” it comes out a long protracted groan. “No. No I will not. He has an ego the size of Alaska and I’m not going to add to that. You’re just going to have to mob him at a charity event like everyone else.” He removes his head from his hands only to knock it a few times on the table. “Uuuughhh.”

“Sorry,” Betty squeaks before picking up her empty tray and scurrying away. Leaving Artemis with the clean up, great.

“Um, are you okay Jason?” Monique steps in before Artemis has to try and think of something to say. Artemis is eternally grateful.

Pond tilts his head enough that it’s his chin resting on the table not his forehead. “I mean _I’m_ fine. I just wish everyone’d stop asking me about Dick, this is not the popularity I asked for or even wanted.”

Artemis laughs. “Why’re they asking about it now anyways?” You’d think they would’ve done this last year. Granted Artemis has seen pictures of Dick Grayson and most definitely gets the appeal. He’s very much a hunk.

Pulling himself upright Pond actually starts to eat, answering between bites. “Haly’s Circus is starting their new season in Gotham in March and Dick’s joining them for a one night only charity show. If I didn’t know any better I’d say Bruce is kind of moping that Dick’s taking the spotlight from him,” he sniggers as he says it.

Monique looks like she’s about to say something but the ten minute warning bell goes off and she looks back down at her still full tray. “Shit.”

“Sorry you’re getting pulled into shit you don’t want.” Artemis knows how that feels. She doesn’t regret going after her dad in Star City, or how much trouble said event had gotten her in back home. Or meeting the Titans. She does wish it hadn’t resulted in her getting pulled into other things.

“Eh,” Pond shrugs. “Dick already feels bad about it, and it could be worse. Thanks, though.” His smile is shy and strangely familiar. Standing up, he goes to bus his tray and heads out.

Artemis tries to put that smile out of her mind while she finishes her own lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact everyone! Chapters'll be coming up every week now! MarieBirdy and I finally got through this whole fic, and I'm excited for you all to see what's coming up!


	14. Chapter 14

Like last year, you find you dislike the monotony of January and the beginning of February. This year you have being Robin to ease some of the boredom.

Blowing a raspberry you bound out of the way of Harley Quinn’s mallet. “Ooo, that’s a two from the Russian judge.” Dick’s pulled you into watching the Winter Olympics with him. His color commentary’s better than the broadcast’s.

“Oh shut up ya little bird brain. Stay still so Mama Harley can give you the spanking you deserve for that smart mouth.” You do no such thing of course, although you think the look on her face if you did would be kind of funny.

A distance away you hear the braying laugh of the Joker. As much as you want to look and see how Batman’s doing, you can’t. Can’t underestimate Harley Quinn, even if she plays the fool.

This time when she comes at you with the mallet you pull out your grappling gun and use it to lift you up, releasing the cable quick enough that you land on the head of the mallet. It takes a quick bit of work to keep yourself  _ balanced _ but it’s worth it to see her gape of surprise. You grin at her. “Will Harley Quinn make it to that gold medal or will she fail so close to victory? Find out after this,” you leap and catch her in the jaw, sending her sprawling. “Commercial break.”

You make quick work of tying her up. Making sure she can’t work her way free is another matter altogether and takes much longer. By the time you get it done Batman’s dealt with the Joker, giving Harley something new to complain about. “We was gonna go straight Bats, I swear!”

Batman’s expression is perfectly stoic, and if you didn’t know better you’d think the lower half of his face was a mask too. “After gassing all the schools?” There’s not even a hint of anger in his voice.

She looks at her KO’d boyfriend and shrugs. “Ya know all the newscasters’re saying education’s a joke these days. Might as well make it a good one right?” She beams.

“We’re taking you back to Arkham, Harley.” Batman’s tone is final.

After the GCPD have dragged the two away and driven off, you and Batman are standing on the roof, a brief breather before diving back into the mess. “What’s next, B?” You hop up onto the HVAC intake and do a spin. The cold might be bitter, but it’s worth it to see Batman give a twitch.

“Patrol,” he answers. “You can head back to the Cave if you’d like Robin, you did good work tonight.”

“And leave you here alone and gloomy?” You grin. “I mean, unless you’re meeting up with Catwoman or something.” Perhaps not the best thing you could say, but you’re still riding a bit high on the victory. Anyways, as a Robin it’s your right to tease Batman shamelessly.

The lenses of his mask narrow. “You’ve been listening to Nightwing too much.” The rebuke could’ve been worse. “What’s between Catwoman and I is adversarial.”

“Uh huh.” You hope you convey unimpressed. “If you’re gonna go chase her down, can I call Artemis and invite her to go patrolling with me?” You kind of did promise and you feel bad that it’s been a month now and you haven’t done anything about it. Might as well remedy it now if Batman’s gonna do things you’re legally not allowed to watch.

There’s a long second where you think Batman might do something human like pinch the bridge of his nose or maybe just sigh. You kind of wish you had your phone out to record it. Sure in the Cave he’ll emote, but rarely if ever while out on patrol.

“Three hours,” he finally says. “Then you’re returning to the Cave. Understand?”

“Yep! Thanks B!” You flip off the HVAC and pull out your phone as he grapples away.  _ Hey Artemis _ , you text.  _ U up? _

-

Fifteen minutes after she gets that first text from Robin, Artemis is a few rooftops away from her apartment waiting for him. Despite knowing it’s right she checks the tension on her bow again, slick nylon digging a little into her fingers as she slides them up and down. 

“Hey.” Robin’s voice sounds to her left and she doesn’t bother to hide her start of surprise.

“Jesus, Robin,” she narrows her eyes. “Don’t do that.”

Ducking his head he gives a bashful smile. “Sorry. Habit.”

Artemis bets. “So what’s the plan?” Now that her fright’s died down, she’s excited again. With Ollie being on the west coast she doesn’t exactly get the chance to go out patrolling with him.

Robin shrugs. “I thought we could just patrol around, see what crops up. I’ve got to get back to the Cave in about two and a half hours, but until then we can do what we want.” He runs a hand through his black hair.

“I can live with that,” she replies. Together they leap from one rooftop to the next, heading west. “Batman keeping you on a short leash then?” It’s not quite a tease, but she’s curious. Also she still needs to give Batman that talking to.

“Eh,” another shrug from him. “I’ve only be at this six months, he worries.” Batman worrying would be a sight to see. “Also pretty sure he wanted to ditch me because of Catwoman.”

She doesn’t quite stop in her tracks but it’s a near thing. “Catwoman,” she says flatly. She’s not sure if that’s more or less weird than her own history; two villains hooking up makes  _ some _ sense. “Really?”

“I know right?” He does a completely unnecessary flip as they take another leap. “I mean I guess she’s attractive, but Batman’s not exactly that shallow. It’s not just one sided I think, either,” his face scrunches up. “Not that I’m usually with him when they cross paths.” Artemis bets Batman plans it that way, she pointedly keeps herself from thinking on the  _ why _ . “Maybe it’s just an opposites attract thing, I’ve read enough of those.”

“You read romance novels?” Artemis can’t exactly hide her surprise. Not that she can really throw stones.

Robin looks like he’s going to answer, but shouts down below draw their attention and peering into the alley she sees a few white muggers menacing a few homeless people—one white, one Black, and one who looked white. “You wanna take shots at them from up here or come down with me?” Robin’s voice is quiet but reaches her clear enough.

“Come down,” she answers. She needs to work on her hand to hand more. Laying her bow down she unslings her quiver then runs a hand over her braid to check the spikes in it. “Let’s go.”

All she gets in reply is a tight nod and Robin hurls himself over the edge. Artemis can’t do much else but follow. She’s grateful that the two of them have had enough training together that she’s got a good idea of what he’ll do.

The fight takes longer than she’d like, but they do get the muggers. Robin hands Artemis a comm to page the police over while he goes and has a brief chat with the two men and woman they saved. Artemis double checks the muggers bindings as she listens to Robin direct them towards a warming shelter. It’s not exactly something she associates with Batman, but Robin seems at ease as the three walk off that it’s got to be something he does often.

Without saying anything Robin bounds up and reaches the fire escape ladder, lowering it down for her. Settling her quiver back over her shoulder up on the roof, the last bit of tension in her shoulders leaves her. “Do that often?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Even through the mask she can tell he’s giving her a flat look. Before she can say anything more—not that she’s sure what  _ to _ say—he brightens. “Race you to the docks!” He doesn’t even give her the chance to agree before he’s off like a shot.

She chases after. Grateful he sticks to an easy enough path for her to follow—no nifty grappling guns for her. A few minutes later, brackish water and oil reach her nose. Artemis gratefully stops next to Robin and bends over to catch her breath. “You cheated,” without thought she reaches over and punches his shoulder.

“Make it up to you next time.” He takes the fire escape down and she follows. Together they slip from shadow to shadow until they’re at the docks proper, settling down at the end of an empty one, legs dangling over the edge.

“Sorry about earlier. Just...wasn’t expecting it.” Across the river she sees the lights of Gotham’s suburbia.

“I forgive you.” Robin joins her in staring. “Batman doesn’t fight crime by just beating people up.” Now that he says it it’s obvious, but she bets it’s something most people don’t think about. Something on his belt beeps and without even looking he reaches into the right pouch and pulls out a phone. “Forty-five more minutes. Wanna head back now?”

“No,” she shakes her head in emphasis. “Want to stay here a little longer if that’s alright.” If not she can make her way home alone, won’t be the first time. Even if it makes mom worry.

He doesn’t say anything, but stays sitting.

-

When you get back to the Cave the computer screen is still on, the record program pointedly open. Bruce is in the gym area, going at a punching bag. Biting back a smile you take a seat and type up the night’s events. You decide it’s best to leave out yours and Artemis’ conversations.

Saving the report you shut down the computer, starting to take off your wig as you stand. “It went good,” you tell Bruce as you pass him on your way to the locker room. You know full well he won’t  _ ask _ how tonight went, heaven forbid he hover like a worried parent.

Coming out of the shower, you dress and take a seat at the edge of the mats. Bruce delivers a nasty uppercut to the bag sending it swinging, as it settles he unwraps his hands. The silence coming from Bruce is expectant, so you wait patiently. He takes a seat across from you, even mimicking the way you have your arms wrapped around your knees. You narrow your eyes at him and his hands fall to his sides. “I’m glad you’ve started to make friends Jason, but you don’t need to feel pressured to make any if you don’t want to. You’re not Dick, and I hope you feel like you don’t need to try to be.”

“I don’t,” you answer honestly. You’ve never felt like you were being compared to him, except maybe in your own head a few times. Nor have you felt like you’re being pressured to have friends. Pulling your legs closer you manage to rest your chin on your knees. “You got that from one of those parenting books didn’t you.” It’s more tease than accusation.

You bite back a smile when Bruce blushes a little. “Maybe,” he hedges. You roll your eyes. It’s not like you haven’t  _ seen _ them, although less now than before. You’re at the start of puberty however so he must be brushing up again. He stands, and you let him haul you up as well. “If I had been then I’d say in the morning I’d make pancakes for breakfast.”

“You, make breakfast,” incredulity fills your voice. “I’d pay good money to see that.” As far as you know Bruce isn’t allowed in the kitchen, let alone  _ cook _ in it.

Together you head up into the Manor. “Well bring down a dime tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do. Pancakes can’t be that hard.”

Oh boy.

-

In the morning, Dick comes down to the kitchen to find crepes—well they  _ look _ like crepes—in the garbage and Jason patiently explaining to Bruce what  _ exactly _ goes into pancake batter. Diving in, Dick grabs his coffee and retreats to the small dining room where he finds Alfred. “I’m surprised you’re not in there giving Bruce a piece of your mind.”

“Master Bruce was most insistent, and Master Jason seems to have it well enough in hand last I checked. Should something suddenly burst into flame however, I will be prepared.” He takes a sip of his tea.

“Don’t doubt it for a second, Alfie.” Dick hides his smile behind his mug and picks up the paper. He makes it through the front page news and half the entertainment section before the door between the kitchen and the dining room opens.

“Breakfast!” Jason calls out excitedly. “You’ll have to get whatever toppings you might want, but pancakes and eggs are ready.” Bruce passes him, carrying a large platter piled high with steaming pancakes and eggs respectively. Jason vanishes back into the kitchen, but soon comes out with the syrup bottle and the butter dish.

Dick does a bit of vanishing himself, coming back out with strawberry jam for himself and molasses for Alfred. Jason’s kidnapped the entertainment section and is pouring over it as he eats. “I was reading that,” Dick mock protests.

“Should’ve brought it with you,” Jason jibes back. “Mine now.”

“Ugh,” Dick gripes.

The smile on Bruce’s face makes Dick smile back. He is more than happy they’ve made this little family for themselves.


	15. Chapter 15

Gratefully winter gives into spring by the middle of March. Debate picks up and you find yourself preparing more and more for State—Rena’s determined to make Nationals this year. Which leaves you little time for things like your budding friendship with Artemis—as you _and_ Robin—or relaxing in general.

Patrols still happen on the weekends and you do your best to carve out some time to invite Artemis when you can. Like tonight. “Sorry things have been spotty recently.”

She shrugs as she leads you across a warehouse roof. “It’s alright, school’s been a pain in my ass recently anyways.”

You arch an eyebrow even though she can’t see it. “Isn’t it always for you?”

“I mean, yeah, but moreso than usual.” Maybe you should invite her and some other kids over for a study session or something. “You’re coming with tomorrow to San Francisco right?” It’s the first night of spring break and she sounds eager to get back to the Titans.

“No.” You bound across a gap between roofs. “B wants to keep me close, gonna be monitoring the Haly’s event in case anything happens.” Close enough to the truth. The only real difference being where you’ll be doing the monitoring.

“I don’t know whether to be disappointed or jealous,” she teases.

You snort. “Both?” You offer. “Disappous? Jealopointed?”

“Nerd,” she gives you a friendly shove.

Opening your mouth to give a reply, you see something move out of the corner of your eye. Grabbing Artemis, you pull the both of you down, motioning for silence as you scan, trying to see if you can spot what made the movement.

Her fingers tap out Morse code against your wrist as you look. _What is it?_ All you can answer with is a shrug. Until, you point at a dark shape jumping onto the rooftop parallel to yours. _See them, follow?_

You nod, anyone out on the rooftops this time of night usually doesn’t have anything good in mind.

Rising up, you both make your way to the edge. Artemis shoots out a line and you slide across. If this weren’t possibly urgent you’d stop to drag the line back in, but no time for that. Stealing after the shadow you keep low, making sure you’re hard to see.

It takes half an hour before the shadow does anything of interest. Opening a window on the third floor of a building and slipping in. Sharing a look with Artemis you slip in after, making sure to leave the window as you found it.

Inside you find a generic office layout, the cubicles giving nice cover as you continue to sneak along. Artemis’ breathing sounds almost loud to your ears, but you can’t exactly tell her to breathe _quieter_. It’s harder to tell where the shadow you’re following might have gone, but listening helps rule out directions.

The shout of pain that cuts through the quiet air also helps. You and Artemis share a look and creep towards it. Peering around a hallway you jerk your head back around barely a second later. It takes a second but you manage to convey to Artemis where the two guards are. As far as you can tell there’s no way around but through. Pulling out a smoke bomb you hold it out in question. Artemis nods, but then holds a finger up. You wait as she leans around you to get her own look.

As she returns to her previous spot she pulls an arrow out from her quiver, notching it but not drawing. With a jerk of her head she gestures to the left, you nod and gesture right. If you’re quick the both of you can get the two of them before they raise the alarm.

Pushing the catch on your bomb you roll it towards the guards. The carpet muffles the sound of it and with neither of them looking _down_ it goes by unnoticed. Another bit of luck is neither of them call out when the smoke fills the hall. Instead their voices lower and tense as they prepare for the expected fight.

Artemis’ arrow reaches her target before you reach yours.

Reaching your guard, you get him in the throat, then the solar plexus. Both have him dropping to the ground. Pulling out zip ties you get his hands and feet, slapping tape on his mouth to keep him from calling out.

The smoke begins to clear and you see Artemis has done the same with hers. Now you can only hope there’s no one patrolling to find them in a few minutes.

Reaching the next corner you peer around again, this time jerking your head back because of gunfire. “Think we blew our surprise.” It’d been a risk they might see the smoke.

“See anything?” Artemis reaches over her shoulder again, fingers feeling various fletchings until finding the one she wants.

“Four guards, don’t know what kind of guns.” The gunfire’s stopped but voices are quickly approaching. “Think they’re guarding the conference hall at the end, four more in there. Maybe.” You hadn’t gotten as good a look as you’d like. “Call for backup?” Everyone’s out on patrol tonight so you’d at least get one extra body on your side.

“We can take them,” Artemis sounds more confident than you feel. Not waiting for you to respond she stands and takes the corner, firing off her arrow. You turn your head and close your eyes just in time to avoid the worst of the flash-bang.

You don’t wait for it to fade before jumping into action. As you run into the fray, you throw a birdarang, catching one of the guards in the hand and making her drop her gun. Artemis dives at her and you go for another, only managing to get a punch in before someone tries to tackle you from behind.

Rolling with them you fling them off and into a wall then whirl around to go after your previous opponent. She aims with her pistol and you rush her. You don’t even feel the impact in your arm except as a brief flare of heat, not at all letting it stop you. Her eyes widen in surprise as you break her nose.

Before you get the chance to do much more a voice cuts through the fight. “And here I thought tonight was going to be boring.”

-

Artemis thanks her luck that the man she’d been fighting’s already down. Otherwise hearing _her_ voice would’ve spelled the end of the fight. As Artemis turns around she nocks and draws an arrow. Eyes narrowing as she sees Ja- _Cheshire_ there with her sais at the ready.

Robin’s bleeding from his arm and either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care. Either way he looks well enough for a fight, meaning Artemis doesn’t have to worry about facing her sister alone. On the other hand he might figure out that she knows this particular assassin all too well. “You know I usually don’t fight kids.”

“Don’t worry,” Robin snaps back and Artemis wishes he hadn’t. “I fight adults all the time. Pretty damn good at it by this point.”

Cheshire’s mask gives nothing away, but her voice is shaded with amusement on the other hand. “Yes I’m sure a bat-brat like you is. You should run back home to daddy, let him deal with the big, scary assassin.”

Artemis fires before Robin can do something reckless and Cheshire ducks out of the way, going for Robin instead of her, damnit. Flinging her bow aside, Artemis charges. Robin might be able to hold his own again the likes of Joker and Bane, but she doubts he’s faced off against anyone from the League of Assassins before.

She catches Cheshire around the waist as the other woman takes a swipe at Robin. Cheshire grunts and barely a second later she feels the pommel of a sai pound into her shoulder, trying to break her concentration. Dad’s done worse and Artemis keeps her grip as they crash into a wall.

“Artemis!” She pays no attention to Robin as she gets Cheshire on the chin, and her sister grunts. Between one blink and the next however things change. Artemis is on her back and Cheshire free again.

Flipping herself upright, she’s just in time to see Cheshire grab Robin by the hair, knee crashing into his face. Biting back her cry, Artemis charges again, the three of them tumbling into a heap. Robin wins free and returns the favor to Cheshire, cracking her mask but not shattering it. Feeling her sister readying to strike, Artemis rolls away herself. The arrows in her quiver are a mess from the fight but Artemis still reaches for one, yanking out the first flash-bang she touches.

Pressing the timer she leaves it on the ground and heads for Cheshire again. Robin doesn’t know how to fight her sister like she does. Sixty seconds.

Despite how much she hates it, the rhythm of hand to hand with Cheshire is easy to fall into. She’s not the only one, thankfully. Thirty seconds.

Jade realizes what’s up, on the other hand. Seconds later, Artemis is recoiling from a punch to the breasts. More than enough distraction. Even though her face’s still hidden, Artemis knows Jade winks. “Say ‘hello’ to that Red Arrow fellow for me will you?”

The flash-bang goes off. Instead of providing cover for her and Robin to escape it’s all Cheshire needs to slip out. When it fades Artemis realizes her sister didn’t leave without a parting gift.

Robin kneeling with his hand pressed to his side, blood flowing out from between his fingers.

In the back of her mind Artemis freaks out, but the rest of her goes into crisis mode. As gently as she can she scoops him up, doing her best to figure out how long it might take for her to get to the nearest medical center and if Robin might survive. Would calling Batman be easier? She knows Robin keeps an extra comm in his belt, but she also knows the belt’s wired to shock you unless you knew the sequence—one which Robin has yet to teach her.

On the street she looks around to orient herself. Orchard and 15th. Further from anything useful than she’d like, but not the worst place to be. Doesn’t help that she’ll be on foot.

The roaring sound of an engine has her stepping back, not wanting to draw attention to them. That goes out the window when she sees it’s the Batmobile. She’s there before the roof’s all the way open. “We need to get Robin to the hospital. Now!”

Batwoman—she’d thought it’d be Batman—stares for a moment. Clearly expecting to have been backup—Robin must have called her—instead of rescue. Artemis isn’t going to question her own luck on the other hand.

“Shit.” Artemis climbs into the back seat as carefully as possible. Robin groans and shifts, his red hair glinting in the light. Batwoman jumps back into the driver’s seat and they’re tearing away faster than Artemis is expecting.

Not that she worries about that long, her brain now stuck on the fact that Robin’s hair is _red_.

It doesn’t look good with his broken nose. Artemis shakes that thought off. She goes back through the fight in her mind. His wig, he _had_ to have been wearing a wig, must have come off when Artemis tackled Cheshire the second time—which meant either Cheshire had it or it was still in that office building. It’s not surprising Artemis is only noticing right now.

What _is_ surprising is that she knows his hair very well already. Even with the mask now it’s hard to miss the fact that this is Jason Pond possibly dying in her arms. She...she doesn’t know what to make of either of those things just yet.

The sound of the engine cuts out and Batwoman is there, taking Robin—calling him Pond while he’s in the uniform feels wrong—from Artemis. Despite the shock she’s still in, habit has Artemis looking around as she follows. Crime Alley is _not_ where she expected them to go. Yet Batwoman enters the clinic without any hesitation.

By the time Artemis steps in Batwoman and Robin are gone. Batgirl and Nightwing are there, and she sees a flutter of cape going around a corner that must be Batman.

“Artemis?” Nightwing’s voice is kind and she starts when she feels his hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to sit down or clean yourself off?”

That confuses her for a moment until she looks down at herself and notices the blood. “Clean,” her voice sounds a few seconds away from a panic attack. Enough that she doesn’t protest when Batgirl follows her into the bathroom.

Stripping off her gloves and bracers Artemis runs her hands under the cold water that comes from the sink, brain going in circles.

“Here.” Another start. Through the mirror she sees Batgirl offering a little packet. “This’ll help with the blood.” The smile she gives is comforting. “Don’t worry about Robin, Dr. Tompkins’ _very_ good at her job.”

Trembling hands are not unexpected; Artemis gratefully takes the packet. Tearing it open, a little gel spills onto her fingers. She’ll need to take off her top and cowl to use it then. “Um,” she’s not self conscious but… “Turn around…”

“So you can protect your secret identity?” Batgirl’s wink is unmistakable, even under a mask. Artemis feels guilty for the laugh that leaves her. “Sure thing.” Then turns around.

Shoulders sagging Artemis unlatches the top of her suit from the bottom and peels it off. The gel foams as she rubs it into the blood stains. They don’t vanish completely as she washes them, but they do become all but invisible. Going to the air dryer she pushes the button with her wrist and dries her top as best she can. It’s still damp when she pulls it back on, but that’s better than being covered in blood.

Again she doesn’t protest when Batgirl leads her out and into one of the chairs in the waiting room. A white woman with shockingly red hair steps into the room with a carrier full of coffee cups and blankets. Nightwing narrows his eyes at her. “Kate.”

“She already recognized Jason, Dick.” Kate shoves one of the cups of coffee into Artemis’ hand and somehow manages to get a blanket around her to. “Might as well let the whole cat out of the bag instead of just the ear.”

For a moment the words don’t work in Artemis’ brain, then she’s seeing the woman with _longer_ red hair and, oh. This is Batwoman fussing over her. Nightwing sighs as he collapses into the chair next to Artemis. “B’s not going to like this.”

“Well he’s not the boss of me no matter how many times he thinks it.” Kate does the same to Nightwing and hip checks Batgirl into the spot next to him. “Alfred’ll be here soon. And at the moment Leslie’s optimistic about Jason.” The best news Artemis’ heard all night. “Now, honey.” Kate crouches and Artemis stares into her gray eyes. “Do we need to get in contact with your parents?”

Mom. _Shit_.

“I’ll do it,” she croaks. A hiss leaves her and before she knows it Kate’s taking the coffee out of her hands and handing her a tissue.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart,” just below Kate’s voice she can hear Nightwing—because calling him Dick is just too weird right now—and Batgirl talking as well. “I can do it for you if you need it, Artemis, shock doesn’t make it easy to talk to people.” Artemis knows, but she’s _better_ than this. As much as she doesn’t like it, Dad trained her to work past it, not let it get the better of her.

Shaking her head Artemis reaches into her belt and pulls out her phone. Mom’s as worried as Artemis expects her to be. It doesn’t take long to talk her down on the other hand—mentioning Cheshire has that effect—and Artemis gets permission to stay as long as she needs to.

When she hangs up she notices someone new’s joined them. Alfred, she’s certain. She’s seen him before a few times at GA picking Jason up. His guardian maybe? She watches as he goes and hugs Nightwing, Batgirl, and even Kate in turn. Like Kate he crouches in front of her, his warm dry hands grasping hers tightly. “Thank you, for being there.”

Christ, she’s going to cry now. Damnit. Her mask clings uncomfortably to her face as it grows more and more damp. At this point was it even worth keeping on?

Fingers fumbling she pushes it off. Blinking a few seconds later at the handkerchief—an actual freaking _handkerchief_ —that gets pushed into her hands. “I dare say you will need it more than I.”

It gets a weak laugh from her and it’s a relief to know she still can laugh. She dabs her eyes with it, but reaches over to the small table to grab a tissue for her nose.

Tense silence doesn’t fill the room, but everyone keeps their voices low. As if talking too loud might spell the end for Robin. More time than Artemis is comfortable with passes before Batman steps into the room.

She wonders what goes through his head as he takes everything in. Kate no longer in her suit talking softly to Alfred. Nightwing and Batgirl asleep, using each other as pillows. And Artemis.

There’s no surprise in her that he walks right up to her, their positions meaning he towers over her. Every angry word she’s wanted to say to him about plucking her out of her perfectly fine life and putting her in one where she fits in even less dries up. All that’s left is the numb sorrow and a very Jade-like part that wants to point out that if Batman _hadn’t_ transferred her she might not’ve made the connection between Robin and Jason.

“Report.” His voice brooks no argument.

Artemis can’t even be bothered by how numb she _sounds_ as she tells him what happened. Her training makes her push through it enough to give him the bare bones. The realization that even if he wanted to he couldn’t give her any sort of punishment is heartening, made him different from her dad at the moment.

By the end, she’s finished off half the cup of cold coffee and is certain Batman is narrowing his eyes at her behind that cowl of his. “It was the height of recklessness to think you could go after the League of Assassins on your own.”

She keeps stubbornly silent, she doesn’t need to defend herself. Yes they probably should’ve waited for backup but who knows what might have happened in the intervening time.

“If you hadn’t been there he would have died.” The words themselves aren’t shocking, it’s the change in his voice. A sliver of shock works through her numbness as she looks up and sees, not Batman, but Bruce _fucking_ Wayne. “Thank you Artemis for saving his life.”

-

Everything’s blurry when you open your eyes. Somehow you manage a few more blinks and things start to clear up. Enough for you to tell that you’re not in the Manor, or the Cave. The sound of a heart monitor helps you pinpoint that you’re at Leslie’s clinic. How’d you get here?

Fragments of memory rise up, the League of Assassins. Artemis and yourself barely holding your own. A literal flash of light as Cheshire stabbed you in the side. Ah. That would be why. It would also explain why everything’s so hazy, you’ve been drugged up and whatever Dr. Tompkins used is still coursing through your system.

You do your best to make a sound, in case anyone’s near you. The sound of someone’s breathing picking up and a hurried clatter means you accomplished that at least. If you weren’t drugged you’d probably be surprised at the fact it’s Artemis’ face, sans mask even, that looks down on you.

“Hey.” Her smile is too wan for your liking. “Glad to see you’re awake. Hold on, let me go tell everyone else.” Her footsteps walk away from you.

With the drugs it’s a herculean effort to work through _why_ she might have her mask off. Sure her code name and first name were the same, but since she worked and lived on opposite coasts it sort of worked. She’d never taken her mask off while in San Francisco however, meaning she was trying somewhat to keep her identity safe. The fact that it was off now meant that she either didn’t care or something had happened.

Voices draw you out of your lethargic thoughts and soon far more faces than you expected look down at you. Bruce, Dick, Babs, Alfred, Kate, and Artemis again. Relief is clear in all their eyes. The only sound you can manage is a croaking groan.

Leslie pushes through the faces, her expression sternly kind. “You’ve had quite the night, Jason.” With Bruce’s help she props you upright, something in your side shifts, but you can’t feel any sensations attached to it. “The broken nose’ll heal easy enough, as will the gunshot. Lucky for you that one was a graze, and fairly high up on your arm.” She holds a glass of water up to your mouth and you drink slowly. “The stab to your side on the other hand managed to perforate your liver. I patched it up as best I could but I insist on no strenuous activity for at _least_ two weeks.”

You find enough energy to make a face at that. Dick ruffles your hair. “Don’t go turning into Bruce now.” He easily ignores the look Bruce gives him at that.

“If you’re careful you should be able to walk and not pull your stitches, for now though, there’s a wheelchair for you. You can just as easily do the rest of your recovery at home.”

Giving Leslie the best smile you can you manage a rough, “thanks.”

It’s no surprise that it’s Bruce who picks you up and puts you in the wheelchair. Or that he pushes you. Once you’re better, you’re certain there’ll be a stupendous dressing down. For now you accept the fussing.

There’s also no surprise that you go towards the back entrance. The press don’t likely know you’re here, but better not to have _any_ whispers of what you look like. Should be fun to think of a cover story for the nose. Before Bruce lifts you into the car, you get hugs from Dick, Babs, and Kate—who also gives you a kiss on the head—before they head out on their own.

Bruce follows you into the car and much to your surprise so does Artemis—she’s still in most of her uniform and carrying her bow and quiver. As much as you want to ask what the hell’s going on you decide to settle on: “Thanks for saving my ass.”

“Yeah,” Artemis gives a weak laugh. “No problem.” Her fingers start running through the fletching on her arrows, you’ve seen it enough that you’re sure it’s a nervous tic. You’ve been in the car for a few minutes before she speaks again though. “I’m staying in Gotham instead of going to the Titans.”

“And why is that?” Bruce sounds almost disinterested. You manage to roll your eyes.

Crossing her arms Artemis stares Bruce down. “If you’re doing actual ‘monitoring’ of that Haly’s event tomorrow than I might as well replace Robin since I’m the one who got him injured.”

Maybe it’s a good thing you’re drugged up, otherwise the shock might be too much for you.

Bruce crosses his arms as well, and you see that all to familiar narrowing of his eyes. “A fair point.” If they’re going to butt heads, you don’t want to be here. Maybe you could pretend to faint onto Bruce to distract the both of them? “What do you say Jason, want to invite Artemis to come to Dick’s show tomorrow?”

You’re possibly too drugged up for this, on the other hand it’s a pretty easy answer from your end. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are ready for the next chapter, it's gonna be a fun one!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NGL, this is definitely one of my fav chapter, it was so much fun to write.

Turns out Wayne Manor is just as swanky and imposing on the inside as it is on the outside. Jason’s room on the other hand is cluttered enough to remind Artemis of her own. “Um,” Jason still sounds rough, but he’s more alert looking than he’d been before. “Welcome to my room I guess.” She bets this isn’t how he thought this would happen. Probably better that way.

Not that she’s too bothered. Honestly the fact that Batman is Bruce Wayne is still fucking her up more than expected. So minimal conversation is good.

“You don’t really have to stay if you don’t want to.” She’s not sure if Jason’s talking about hanging with him in the Manor or staying in Gotham in general.

Either way. “Dude, I said I would stay and I mean it.” He’s even shorter in the wheelchair and she has to crouch down to look him in the eye. “Anyways, now I get to go to the circus.” She gives him the best smile she can.

He huffs. “Come on then, as interesting as I’m sure my room is, I kind of just want to veg and watch TV or something. If that’s alright with you.”

She gives him an exaggerated eye roll. “I _guess_ , if I have to.” Standing up she grabs the handles on the wheelchair and starts pushing. “Where to?” He gives brief directions and she heads out. “How big’s the TV, anyways?” It’s Bruce Wayne, the thing’s got to be _massive_.

“Shut up and keep pushing, asshole.”

Artemis beams at the back of Jason’s head.

-

By the next morning you’re feeling well enough that you walk around on your own power—sure it’d been fun to have people push you around but you do like doing things yourself. It’s not surprising to find Alfred in the kitchen, or that he’s making your favorite breakfast. You’d managed to get the rest of what happened after you passed out from Artemis yesterday. You’re doubly glad she’d saved your ass now.

The paper’s in the kitchen, which means that Bruce’s already left—and Dick’s been at the circus ever since they came to town—it hurts a little even if you were expecting it. Maybe you need to try and figure out a good way to tell him he can still fuss even after you’re out of the woods as it were.

“I am glad to see you up and about, Master Jason.” Alfred smiles as he puts a plate full of food in front of you.

“I am too, Alfred, and thanks.” You tease the comics out of the paper as you start to eat. It’s easy, falling back into the familiar rhythm of breakfast in the Manor.

It’s not surprising that the food makes you sleepier than usual. You’re cracking a yawn as Alfred takes your plate—normally you’d do it yourself but your side twinges when you stretch too far. “Back to bed for you, I think.” His tone is no nonsense as he ushers you out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. “If you’re not already up, I shall wake you when Master Bruce comes home.”

“Thanks,” you yawn out. Despite having been away from it for a while, there’s still a pocket or two of warmth in your bed and you nestle into them as you pull your covers back around you.

“Rest well, Master Jason.” Alfred turns off the light and you slip back into sleep with a final yawn.

-

Your side and nose are dull throbbing aches when you wake up. With care, you push yourself upright, a smile tugging at your lips when you see a glass of water and few ibuprofen next to it. After swallowing them down you take your time getting out of bed and going to your dresser. Even with the ache, your body goes into autopilot as you dress, only for your side to protest as you try to pull on a t-shirt. Damn.

With a groan you toss it aside and pull out one of your few button ups. You only wear them because they’re part of the school uniform. Otherwise you’d prefer not to. Pants are much easier to manage and you decide to err on the side of caution and not even try socks.

This time around it’s slower going to get downstairs, but you manage it with minimal pain. “Alfred?” you call out. The clock in your room’d told you it was three, but a late lunch does sound good. Even if you’d prefer to not bother Alfred.

He appears from the living room, duster in hand. “Ah, welcome back to the world of the living, Master Jason. Hungry?”

“Yeah. Maybe just some sandwiches, and tea?” The caffeine would help wake you up.

“Of course. Go and make yourself comfortable in the library and I shall bring you both shortly.” He walks off without giving you a chance to respond, leaving you to walk to the library. It’s closer than the kitchen, probably why Alfred picked it—and you’re not Dick, to risk staining a book.

With your little nook of the library long ago rearranged to your satisfaction, there’s already a sturdy table as well as a nice thick afghan next to your favorite chair. Non-fiction’s easier to reach so you grab _Devil in the White City_ and settle in.

You’re starting into chapter three when Alfred enters. “With Master Bruce returning soon, I thought it best to give you something lighter to tide you over until dinner. Watercress sandwiches and a pot of the Ceylon Uva. Enjoying your book so far?”

“It’s alright,” you set it down and pick one of the sandwiches out. “It’s all sort of set up at the moment, I just got to the first chapter on Holmes. You’d probably like the chapters on the World’s Fair.” You devour the sandwich in two bites; watercress isn’t your favorite but you like the herb butter Alfred makes for them.

He pulls one of the other chairs to the other side of the table and grabs the pot to pour into the two cups, the strainer catching the tea leaves. “I’m sure I shall. I will be getting to it soon enough, so pray do not...spoil it for me.”

“Alfred,” you roll your eyes as you take your tea cup. “It’s _history_ , you can’t spoil it.” The Uva cuts through the pepper of the watercress perfectly and you make a happy noise as you wrap your hands around the cup, the ache of your body finally starting to fade away.

He smiles at you. “Even so, I dare call it common courtesy. Master Bruce has already read it however,” that doesn’t surprise you at all. “So you and he may talk about it during your dinner.” You’d almost forgot Bruce is taking you out to dinner for a change. Even with the tea you’re still too mentally tired to have the back and forth that’ll ensue when you try to insist Alfred come with the two of you. You’re sure he’d be happy to know you finally give up on it—inside the Manor without strangers he’s more than happy to be the family he actually is, outside the Manor however he’s as perfect a butler as can be.

“You’re still coming to the event right?” Maybe when you’re older you’ll be just as good as Dick in wearing Alfred down.

“Yes,” he pushes the plate of sandwiches closer to you and you take the hint, finishing off another. “With Miss Artemis in tow, since she will be joining us.”

That buoy’s your mood some. Yesterday had been fun and you hope things even out more now that there’s no big secrets between the two of you. Finishing off your cup, you set it on the saucer and snatch the pot up before Alfred gets the chance, pouring yourself a fresh cup and topping off his own.

The conversation between the two of you is easy. You manage to tease out his opinion of _Good Omens_ and he insists that you read _Edwin Drood_ —it’s become the thing between the two of you, swapping book recommendations.

“Why am I not surprised to find the both of you here?” Bruce’s voice cuts into your conversation about the Romantics.

“Welcome back, Master Bruce.” Alfred stands with unhurried ease and collects dishes. “We shall have to continue our discussion later, Master Jason.”

“Can’t wait,” you smile at him. “Hey, B.”

Bruce stops in front of your chair. “Glad to see you’re up, Jason. I’ve got a few phone calls to make, but then I’ll be good to go.” He reaches out and ruffles your hair. “I’ll make sure to bring some socks and shoes down for you.”

You snatch up _Devil in the White City_ to hide your embarrassment, knowing full well Bruce saw it anyways. “Thanks,” you call out to his back. Finding your spot in the book, you dive back in.

You’ve just turned the page to start part two when Bruce returns. “Sorry it took so long, Jay.” He again comes to a stop in front of your chair, this time kneeling and unrolling the socks in his hand to put them on you.

“Yes, the wait was so awful. All that reading I got to do was the worst.” You tilt your feet slightly so it’s easier for him to put your shoes on.

“I see you’ve got the sarcasm part of being a teenager down,” Bruce says with a shake of his head. “Ready?”

Putting the book back down you stand and fold up the afghan, laying it across the arm of the chair. “Ready,” you answer. “Hungry, even.” Your stomach isn’t rumbling, but it definitely wants more food.

Together you head out. Dinner is at a hole in the wall Indian restaurant that Dick and Babs recommended. There’re a few stares, but you think more than a few of them are from the conversation—H.H. Holmes isn’t normal dinner conversation—rather than the fact that Bruce Wayne is here.

The food is good and you enjoy the conversation, but you’re also eager to head out again. The lure of Dick’s performance and fried food is not one you’re exactly working to resist. With a fond roll of his eyes, Bruce pays and leaves his usual cash tip, ushering you out before the staff has the chance to protest the fact he tipped at least three times the amount he paid for the meal.

The makeshift parking lot in front of the circus is already packed and full of people making their way towards the entrance. “Stick close, Jay,” Bruce warns, and you have to hold back on rolling your eyes. As if you were going to swan off.

Dick’s waiting behind the ticket booth, scooping you up gently and taking you and Bruce slightly off the midway. He slaps a paper bracelet on your wrist with a wink. “Free games, rides, and food, Little Wing.” Even knowing how to win rigged games, you’re not sure how well you’re going to do with your injuries. You’ll just have to convince someone else to win stuff for you. “Babs, Alfred and Artemis were by the ferris wheel last I saw, probably better to text them though. Gotta go!” He gives you a kiss on the cheek and sets you down, rushing off towards the main tent.

Bruce gives a bemused shake of his head as he pulls out his phone. “Come on, let’s find everyone else.”

After a brief stop at a stall to get an elephant ear, you find the others at one of the Skee-Ball games. Babs and Artemis both intently play while Alfred looks vaguely comical holding a giant blue rabbit. Only Alfred greets you.

“What’s going on?” You ask between bites of your ear—you’re definitely going back to get more later, not many chances to have fried food back in the Manor.

“Miss Barbara and Miss Artemis are in friendly competition,” Alfred answers. “Miss Artemis implied that her accuracy was greater than Miss Barbara’s, and here we are.”

You don’t laugh, even though you want to. Babs is the most competitive adult you’ve ever met and it seems she’s met her match in Artemis. “Who won the rabbit?” You roll your eyes at Bruce, who’s already checking the time on his phone.

“Miss Barbara did before we arrived. I believe after Skee-Ball we are headed to the shooting range.” _That_ should be fun.

“I got it for Dick,” Babs doesn't look away from her game. “He’ll love it.” Of course Dick will, the man has no shame. “Sh- _crap_.” One of her tosses goes wide and lands in the ten hole instead of the fifty she aimed for.

Artemis doesn’t even react to that, her expression one of pure concentration as she aims and throws her balls. Her score goes higher and higher as she lands fifties and forties with ease—although she looks unhappy with the latter. The scoreboard dings as she tosses the last ball, and she gives her head a little shake.

“Congratulations, young woman. What prize would you like?” Artemis is taken aback by the question, clearly more in it for the score than the prize.

“Get something for me,” you call out to her between your last bites of elephant ear.

She gives a little start, apparently not realizing you’d arrived. Then rolls her eyes. “Get your own prizes,” she calls back. Picking out an awful acid green bear she grins as Babs’ final score appears. “Shooting gallery? Or do you want to save your pride?” There’s a challenging edge to her words.

“Oh, you are on.” Babs all but drags the rest of you to the other end of the midway.

You manage to break off long enough to get another elephant ear, giving a pointed look of your own when Bruce gives you a slightly disproving one. “What? I need all the calories I can get right now.” You’re definitely going to use that excuse for as long as you can.

Reaching the shooting gallery is a welcome distraction, one that has you, Babs, and Artemis laughing and Bruce looking pained. Alfred being the only one far above reacting to the Batman and Robin plushies hanging up in the prize area. To be fair, there are Batgirl, Batwoman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and many others as well—hell you even see ones for the likes of Joker and Two Face. “I know what I want,” you announce with a grin. You’ll probably try to get the Superman and Wonder Woman ones too—for yourself _and_ for Diana and Clark.

Artemis shares your grin as she takes a picture on her phone, likely texting Ollie and Dinah. “Maybe Batman and Robin should just retire, I mean how can you beat being turned into stuffed toys people aren’t likely to win?”

Bruce looks like he might try to up and buy the company that made the toys just to get them to stop. Which means you’ve got to get yours now, before they vanish forever. The shooting gallery won’t be much of a strain anyways. You join Babs and Artemis in flashing your wristbands. “Gonna join in the competition, Jaybird?” Babs grins as she picks up the fake rifle.

“Yeah no, I have _some_ sense of self-preservation.” Rolling your eyes, you pick up your own, settling the butt against your good shoulder. “I’m just in it for the toys.” Which is as it should be, you feel.

“Coward,” Artemis calls out playfully.

“Practical,” you shoot back.

“Shush,” Babs snaps as a few feet away the course springs into life. All sorts of weird and colorful targets rushing by on various tracks as fast as the eye can see.

The rifles are easy to use; the trick is getting the high point targets as quick as you can. Hard, in your case, considering who you’re sharing the range with. Even with Babs and Artemis, you manage a good enough score to get you one of the superhero plushies. You are far more pleased with yourself than you should be upon being handed the Robin one. One down, six more to go.

You’re lucky that other stalls have the same prizes, because Artemis and Babs move on from one game to the next as quick as can be. You join in whenever there’re the plushies, at least until you’ve gotten all the ones you want. Then you’re content to watch and pig out on fried, sugary goodness.

“Alright,” Bruce finally cuts in before they start one of the ring tosses. “We need to be heading to the tent or we’ll miss the show.”

“Tie?” Babs offers Artemis as they follow Bruce.

For a second Artemis looks like she might refuse. Her shoulders loosen though and she nods. “Tie.” She even sticks her hand out. “I had fun.”

“I did too.” Babs shakes back. “Dick’s gonna be ecstatic, the loon.” Her tone is fond though.

Feeling it’s your moment, you trot up to Artemis’ side. “Can I have my friend back now?” You direct this at Babs, it’s good natured though.

Babs rolls her eyes. “I guess, Jaybird.”

Artemis rolls her eyes and moves her collection of prizes around so she can reach out and tweak your ear. “Rude. Your face still looks like you stepped off a horror movie set, too.”

“Thanks,” you drawl. “You know how exuberant Dick can be when he’s caught up in his work.” That’s the story you all made the other day. It’s hard to hide a broken nose, so it had been better to come up with a reasonable explanation to cut off the gossip. Bruce’d even photoshopped some pictures because he was thorough like that.

It gets a snort from Artemis as you all step into the closed warmth of the tent. The waves of conversation wash over you as well as you make your way to the marked off area down in front. There are some black looks from people, but you dare them to try and give the same to Dick. A barker passes by as you sit, but you’re far too full to contemplate popcorn.

A minute or so later, a reminder goes out of the PA system to silence your cell phones as the lights begin to dim.

When only the spotlight in the center ring remains, Mr. Haly appears in a puff of smoke. With that the show begins.

You might only be excited for Dick’s part of the show, but you find yourself getting caught up in it like everyone else, even managing to laugh at some of the clowns’ antics. It’s an amazing show, and you can see why Dick loves it, even if it’s the place of his greatest tragedy.

As the strongman walks off, the lights begin to die again and the sounds of the crowd all but vanish. There’s no puff of smoke this time as Haly walks into the center ring, top hat in his hands. “Before we reach the end of our show, I wished to thank you all for coming out. It’s been some time since we were last in your fair city, but the generosity of Gotham never fails to amaze. And not just because your being here has helped raise thousands for your orphanages and shelters, but because you took one of our own in and raised him into a man we all can be proud of.”

The light on him vanishes. “Now everyone look up, and feel the wonder that is the flying Grayson.”

The spotlight reappears, the beam now pointed at the trapeze platform. A few seconds later you see Dick appear, his hands rising up to wave at everyone as the crowd cheers. Unlike Haly, he doesn’t give a speech, just reaches out and grabs the trapeze bar that swings out to him and jumps off.

No music accompanies him, just the gasps and cries of the crowd as he seems to float in the air. They’ve all see Superman fly on TV, but it’s nothing compared to Dick Grayson.

-

Tim knows he should be _watching_ the performance instead of just taking pictures. But even with the embarrassment that comes from knowing _everyone_ hears the constant shutter release he can’t stop. The only times his eyes see without the viewfinder is when he’s changing his rolls of film—digital might have been easier but the illusion of permanence that film gives is comforting.

He stops breathing and his heart leaps into his chest just like everyone else’s as Dick Grayson creates art all his own.

It’s almost a relief when the show comes to an end, too much of something that beautiful and the world might’ve ended. Personally Tim’s also glad he has some film left, because now comes the hard part.

Weaving his way through the crowd Tim uses his slim build to his advantage to sneak behind the scenes. Dick’s surrounded by his fellow performers, the atmosphere filled with love and pride. Tim settles into an out of the way corner, he can wait.

Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Jason Pond, Barbara Gordon, and a young Asian looking woman he doesn’t recognize cut through the performers with ease. Dick scoops Jason up, giving the boy a hug before setting him on his shoulders. Barbara approaches with a giant blue rabbit and even from here Tim can hear Dick’s delighted laughter at the gift.

Another fifteen minutes pass before the crowd begins to dissipate. Tim’s body protests at the sudden movement but he ignores it in favor of following Dick and the others as they make their way around the midway. In his head Tim counts stalls. When he reaches six he dares to call out. “Can I get a photo?”

They all turn to look at him and the combined forces of their looks would freeze him to the spot if he hadn’t planned for them. Dick quickly becomes all smiles, Jason climbing down as Dick crouches. “Sure thing kiddo.”

Tim’s heart makes a valiant attempt to beat it’s way out through his ribcage as he gets closer. Dick radiates heat and smells of sweat, chalk, and hay. Unhooking the strap from his camera from his neck Tim finds his plan failing him some. “Um…”

Alfred swoops in. “I shall take the picture if that is not too much bother, young sir.”

The politeness helps steady Tim some. “Thank you.” He cuts himself off before he can say ‘Alfred.’ Handing over the camera is harder than Tim thought it would be, but he knows it’ll be worth it.

He starts when Dick throws an arm around his shoulders. “How do I look?”

Tim’s never been this close to a grin like that before and he can feel a blush streaking across his face. “You look...good.”

“Have a break on the poor kid,” Jason calls out. Barbara and the Asian girl laugh but Bruce Wayne looks a little disapproving, even if Jason is unrepentant about it.

Dick just rolls his eyes. “Ready, kiddo?”

Tim’s nod is perhaps too enthusiastic, but it makes Dick smile more as they look at Alfred.

“Now say cheese.” The flash is blinding but Tim’s trained himself not to blink. It quickly going off a second and third time—Tim could kiss Alfred for that.

Pulling himself away from Dick is sad in a way, but knowing what he’s accomplished helps alleviate that some. He reclaims his camera with a quiet ‘thank you.’ He starts to leave but Dick speaks up again. “You want an autograph too?”

Barbara gives a fond sigh and Tim can’t believe his luck. “Yeah. Uh, I don’t have paper or anything.” He feels around in his bag just in case, the only thing out of the ordinary in it at the moment are the Robin and Batman plushies, but no paper. He clearly needed to start carrying it around.

“If you don’t mind it being a receipt I have some,” this from the Asian girl.

“I don’t mind,” Tim answers before Dick can ask him.

Dick’s smile grows. “Thanks, Artemis.” She hands it over and Alfred provides the pen. “So, who’m I making this out to?”

“Tim.” He can feel his blush returning.

“And where’re your parents, Tim?” Bruce Wayne’s voice hints suspicion.

Taking a deep breath and mustering the best smile he can Tim turns to the older man. “Over there,” he lies with confidence, pointing back to the midway. “I should be heading back now though, so they don’t worry.”

Dick hands over the autograph and ruffles Tim’s hair. “Nice meeting you, Tim.”

Tim’s cheeks start to ache as he shoves the paper into his bag and runs off. He had planned on following them back to the trailers to get candids, but he’d rather not rouse more suspicion from Bruce Wayne if he has to.

It takes half an hour by bus and light rail to get back to the house. Pulling his screwdriver out of his bag he undoes the lock on his bedroom window and climbs back in. The string across his door is undisturbed, meaning no one noticed he was gone. Good.

As much as he wants to go and develop his film now, he forces himself to change into his pajamas instead. He can do that tomorrow.

He does allow himself to look at receipt. One side is for a Senegalese food truck. The other now has ‘ _To Tim. Thanks for being such a fan! Dick Grayson_ ’ scrawled on the back.

Tim’s fingers shake as he sets it on the bed. In the morning he’s going to have to figure out how best to preserve it, for now though… Getting on his hands and knees he reaches under his bed and pulls out what might be the most important thing in his life.

Pulling the lid off, he stares at the familiar mish-mash of items. Mostly photographs he’s taken, but there are some news articles as well, and perhaps his most prized find: half of a Batarang.

Putting the autograph in with everything else he’s collected on Batman, Robin, and the others, he slides it back under his bed with his foot. With care he sets the two plushies on his bedside table, doing his best to remember the feel of the smile on his face and catalog all the emotions he’s felt tonight.

He might not have gone to get proof that Dick Grayson had once been Robin and was now Nightwing, but he has it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim! Although say goodbye to him for now, it'll be a while until he's back.


	17. Chapter 17

You send off the plushies—and it turns out you were right about them loving them—you recover, and go back out on patrol. Turns out the GA debate team _does_ make Nationals, not that you were much help at State. Rena benched you because of the nose, only after giving you a talking to about letting your kind-of older brother talk you into doing reckless things.

Seventh grade comes to an end, and you’re more than ready for the summer.

Even though this is only your second time with the Titans, you’re welcomed back with gusto. Literally. “Welcome back!” M’gann scoops you up with ease. You’re only marginally embarrassed about it.

“It’s good to be back M’gann.” You hug her back for a moment before escaping her grip. “Although I’ll be heading back in about a week.”

“We will have to make the most of your time here, then.” Kori smiles down at you. “Welcome as well, Artemis.” You peer over your shoulder to see M’gann’s moved onto Artemis.

She squeezes back. “Hey M’gann. Gotta breathe sometime though.”

M’gann lets Artemis go with what might be the Martian equivalent of a blush. Before anyone can say anything else, you all get dive-bombed by an eagle.

“Wooohoo! Summer!” Beast Boy shifts back and you sock him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, I didn’t need that extra year on my life.”

Gar sticks his tongue out. “Dude, don’t hurt the guy who got you pizza.”

You stick your tongue right back out. “Then don’t be an ass.”

“Told you,” Raven says as she and Kaluder join the group. “Come on, pizza’s getting cold.” She turns right back around. Gar shifts into a monkey and races to her, climbing onto her shoulder.

“I’m funny right?” Is the last thing they hear before they both disappear inside.

“It is good to see the both of you.” Kaldur gives you a small nod but smiles at Artemis.

...Who blushes a little. You might almost be thirteen but you decide to don’t want to know. For a few more years, if you can help it.

“Raven’s right,” M’gann’s cheer cuts through whatever tension there might be. “Let’s go eat!”

-

There’s that petulant part of you that’s spewing a constant litany of boredom. The trick is doing your best to ignore it.

Aqualad’s eyes scan the perimeter below the both of you, and you try to stretch without moving. “How’s it look?” You’ve perfected the art of actually speaking quietly, thankfully.

 _‘Clear,’_ he answers mentally.

 _‘Everything’s clear here too,'_ from Raven and Artemis.

 _‘And here,’_ from Starfire. _‘Beast Boy what’s the situation inside?’_

 _‘Dicey’._ There’s a mental grunt from Miss Martian. You vision shifts along with everyone else’s and you can just make out Dr. Light and his hostages from the point of view of a rat. _‘Since when did good ol’ Doc Light have henchpeople?’_  You feel something like a headache coming on as Beast Boy’s gaze moves towards the other end of the room. Mental comms are all well and good but you find there’s a price.

You push past it; you can indulge it later when you’re back in the Tower.

 _‘I count five,’_ Artemis says. Agreement from everyone else follows quickly. _‘How’re we doing this?’_

 _‘Beast Boy, I want you and Miss Martian to get the hostages out. Aqualad, Artemis, Robin you three deal with the backup. Raven and I’ll take Dr. Light.’_ Starfire swoops in closer. _‘Raven to me, the rest of you start going in.’_

 _‘There’s a staff entrance to the left,’_ You’d made sure to look up the blueprints to the building on the way there. _‘Straight shot from there to the kitchens. Only a wall between us and them from there.’_

Artemis is waiting by the door. You go to pick it, but it seems Artemis’ beat you to it. She gives a broad grin. _‘Breaking the wall down_ would _provide a nice distraction for everyone else.’_

 _'Then that is what we shall do. Let’s go.’_  Aqualad leads the way and you make a note to set off the sprinklers or something so he’s got a good supply of water to work with. The kitchen is empty, the cooking staff in the banquet hall with the others. Artemis and Aqualad wait as you place charges—making sure to put one in the sink as well.

They flicker at ten seconds, the flashes getting more frequent before vanishing as the charges explode.

The three of you rush in accompanied by a spray of water, catching all of them off guard.

You hear shouts from friends and foes alike, but you keep your attention on the goons. You all work methodically to take them down. Once they’re all tied up you go to help get the last hostages out, Aqualad and Artemis helping to harry Dr. Light.

A bright light fills the room and you close your eyes and turn against it to try and save your eyes. It lasts painfully long and you hate not knowing what’s going on. Thanks to the mental link you know everyone’s okay, but nothing beyond that.

Without warning the light turns into darkness. “No,” Raven’s voice cuts through the noise.

The darkness slithers away leaving the world as it is. Not that you stop blinking as your eyes try to get back to normal.

Everyone looks unhurt, even the last two hostages. Dr. Light, or you assume it’s him in there, is encased in a bubble of shadows.

“Raven?” Starfire sounds worried.

“I’m…” She clenches her fists and the shadows fade away. Dr. Light looks paler than usual but you’re more concerned about your teammate if you’re honest. “I’ll be fine.”

Gar and Kori share a look you can’t read and Gar approaches her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her away. There’s a twist in your gut at the sight, like the look you don’t know what to make of it.

“Will she be alright?” M’gann hovers nervously next to Kaldur her gaze following the two of them.

“She’ll be fine,” Kori sounds like she’s trying to convince herself as well. “We just need to give her some time.” Swooping down she grabs Dr. Light. “Can you four finish up here? Aqualad, I’m leaving you in charge.” Without waiting for an actual response she flies away, Dr. Light not even struggling.

Even with her instructions the four of you stand there for a few seconds, unsure of what just happened. There’s a reason she’d picked Aqualad to be in charge on the other hand. “Miss Martian, you and Robin look after the hostages, make sure they’re alright and able to give statements. Artemis, you and I will finish up here.”

You don’t protest when Miss Martian scoops you up. Even with the worry eating away at your gut you enjoy the feeling of flying.

-

You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Gar or Raven since yesterday and it keeps you from fully being in the moment. With a shake you try to focus yourself.

“Robin?” M’gann’s levitating trays of fresh cookies and you need to be putting the new trays into the oven. The Tower doesn’t need what’s turned out to be five dozen oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, but both you and M’gann find baking calming.

“Sorry.” Picking up the last two trays you slide them into the oven and close the door. Timer set, you go to the cooling rack and move some of the cooler cookies onto a plate. “I’ll be right back.”

It’d been easy enough to memorize the layout of the Tower and you find yourself in front of Raven’s door—having already tried Gar’s and finding his room empty. You don’t let yourself hesitate in knocking, though you do it softly. “Gar? Raven? I’ve got cookies?” Robin should be more confident than that, but there it is.

The door opens however, if just a sliver, Gar on the other side. “Thanks.” It’s a real smile on his face when he opens the door a little more to take the plate.

“Is Raven alright?” Kori hasn’t said anything about her since they got back to the Tower. You think she’s been on the phone with Dick and the other former Titans letting them know what happened. It might be nice to meet them all, but you would’ve preferred a different situation being the catalyst.

Gar nods. “She’ll be fine in another day or two. It happens sometimes when we go up against Light. She just needs some quiet and focus.” His smile is wan. “Thanks again for the cookies, Robin.” He closes the door.

You rock back and forth on your heels for a few seconds before turning around and going back to the kitchens. His words haven’t relieved your worry, but they help.

-

Jason had told them all about what Gar said yesterday. But in the morning when Raven’s there at breakfast Artemis’ still happy about it. Being told something and seeing it with your own eyes are two different things after all.

It’s so easy to forget the older members of the Titans aren’t as indestructible as they sometimes seem.

Breakfast turns into a sort of mini-party, one that leaves Artemis—as well as the others she’s sure—feeling better. There’s still nervous energy rocketing through her body on the other hand. She can’t focus enough for a spar or the range so she changes into her swimsuit and hits the pool.

She’s on her third lap when Kaldur joins her, catching up to her easily and even outpacing her after a while. Jerk. Not that she means it, any Atlantean could swim rings around her like he is, she’s sure.

After a few more laps, she stops swimming and lets herself float, staring up at the sky through the glass above. Clouds race past and help take away the last of her anxiety.

“Are you feeling better?” He should be glad she already knew he was treading water beside her. Otherwise her underwater flailing might’ve done something close to actual damage. As it stands, she still embarrasses herself. She just can’t win really.

The water bobs her as she settles. “Yeah,” she answers. “Much better. Still taking some getting used to. Having teammates,” she clarifies. Ollie’s pretty hands off as a mentor, which she appreciates. Even when she goes out with Robin, it’s just the two of them. And partners is different from being a group.

“I would say it gets better, but it doesn’t. I find myself worrying about those who I’ve trained with back home often.” His hand is warm on her arm. Artemis is all startled out and she barely even twitches—she does blush some, on the other hand.

He guides the both of them to the edge of the pool and Artemis hoists herself up onto it, her legs kicking absently in the water. Kaldur stays in the pool, and it’s probably a little creepy on her part but she can’t help watching his gills as they move. “What’s Atlantis like?” She bites the inside of her lip as soon as the words leave her mouth. Damn it.

A shrug. “It is a city like any other, it just happens to be underwater. We’re deep enough that the water is dim, so it can’t be said there’s anything amounting to a view,” she laughs along with him. “But we create our own light and that is enough. As much as I enjoy being on the surface and helping my king, it is always a good thing to go home.”

“It can’t be any gloomier than Gotham,” she flicks water on him. “I mean not that it’s dark all the time, can sear your eyeballs off in the summer if you’re not careful. It’s gloomy all the same, though.” Weird how saying that is weird. She’s just so used to it that it’s par for the course. Water is wet, Gotham is gloomy. Batman doesn’t exactly help with that.

Kaldur makes a strange sound. “My king says most of us heroes are not welcome in Gotham.”

“Oh geeze is that an understatement. Robin told me that once Batman chased Superman out of town.” She shrugs, doing her best not to laugh at it, knowing what she knows now. “It’s just part of his thing though.” Silence stretches between them for a few moments. “If you’re interested in visiting on the other hand, he can’t exactly say no to it.” She very much looks anywhere but at Kaldur. Neither Batman nor Bruce Wayne can be everywhere.

He makes a more thoughtful sound this time. “Perhaps. There’s...a lot on my plate.” There’s something in his eye that suggests he’s not sure he used that saying right.

“Sounds about right,” it works as both agreement and confirmation. “You probably don’t have to deal with this anymore, but homework is the _worst_.” Especially the fact that GA hands it out during the _summer_ , it’s just freaking ridiculous. Jason’s a big help—who knew he was hiding a giant nerd under that shy exterior?—yet it’s still more work than she wants to exert over the summer. “Well you have my number, if you find yourself with some free time.” She’s just gonna stop there before she says anything more.

Turns out the smile on his face is worth it. “Thank you, Artemis.”

-

You might complain about the suit in the winter, but during the summer it’s a welcome relief. Especially back in Gotham.

One of Ivy’s tree roots attempts to sweep you off your feet and you flip into a handstand before launching yourself upwards. Batwoman swings by and catches you before anything Ivy sends your way can. “Careful kid.”

“Thanks.” You don’t slip away from her just yet, launching a few birdarangs to slice through the roots holding Batgirl and Nightwing—dear ol’ Batman’s off with the League again.

Ivy gives a snarling shriek and she and one of her giant fly traps come shooting at Batwoman. You shoot your grappling gun and it catches right as Batwoman ejects her own decel cable. Her weight’s heavy but you can hold her for a little while longer. You still have enough moxie to turn slightly and stick out your tongue at Ivy. “Good thing you’re not rooted to the spot!”

Ivy sounds even angrier now and you just laugh.


	18. Chapter 18

This year you don’t drive down to Metropolis for Fourth of July which, no offence to Clark, you’re glad about. You can say you’ve seen a few parades in your lifetime now and even if they have different themes, they’re all sort of the same and you’re happy to skip them.

The flipside is that where you _are_ going you’ve got to wear your wig and mask. Better than Batman in full costume, a fact that you remind Bruce of more than a few times during the flight over. Dick sniggers every time—Artemis meanwhile rolls her eyes.

Bruce ignores you in his usual stony silence. You’re undaunted on the other hand; this isn’t the first time you’ve secretly made him laugh only to discover that fact later. In this case, you’ve got a point you feel. His paranoia’s a bit much. Even if most of the people at the BBQ don’t know that Batman’s Bruce Wayne.

He brings the plane down in a field in the middle of nowhere. His isn’t the only thing parked here, but it stands out even still. A thrum of excitement races through you as you all head towards the collection of awnings and tables, the smell of food wafting in the pleasant breeze. While you’ve met Superman and Wonder Woman, this’ll be your first time interacting with the rest of the League.

“Robin,” Bruce sounds as if he’s just remembered that as well.

“I remember the rules,” you call back, looping your arm through Artemis’. You’ve grown some in the past month and it’s marginally less awkward looking than before. “Come on,” you give her arm a brief tug.

“Just a sec. Hey, Nightwing,” you’re glad she keeps walking as she talks. “If you see Roy can you let him know I want to talk to him?”

“Sure thing,” you don’t need to look at Nightwing to know he’s grinning.

 _Now_ Artemis hurries along with you. “You’re gonna show me all the cool stuff right?” She’s the one who’s been here already after all.

“Yeah, yeah. Though most of it doesn’t happen until after Superman arrives. Could go look at the sign-up board though. Food first.” You won’t argue with that.

You find yourself glad she insisted on food first, because even before then the both of you are stopped often by other heroes. Most of them are interested in meeting the new Robin and asking teasing questions about Batman. It’s easy to slip into the full Robin, giving playful jibes in response to their questions and seeming as carefree as can be.

“You know that’s kind of scary right?” Artemis asks as you both pull away from Atom.

You shrug. “It’s what being Robin is, you just know both parts of me now so you’re seeing the switch.” You see it with Batman/Bruce all the time, it’s not scary or strange to you. It’s only a fact of being a hero with such vast differences between your two identities. “Diana!” You call out and wave eagerly, tugging Artemis along with you.

Wonder Woman turns at your call and gives the two of you a broad smile. “Robin, it’s good to see you. And you must be Artemis.”

You accept and heartily return Diana’s hug, staying close as she and Artemis shake hands. “It’s...nice to meet you. I’m a big fan.” Artemis has a familiar blush on her cheeks and you know how she feels, even if you’d met Diana before you even knew she was Wonder Woman.

“Thank you, sister.” Artemis turns even pinker. “And Jason,” she claps you on the shoulder and even though you trust her you find yourself looking around to make sure no one overheard her. “I thought you should know that...plushie sits in honor amongst all my trophies and honors.”

You turn about as red as Artemis. “You’re welcome,” it comes out an unfortunate squeak.

Artemis however is an amazing friend and grabs your hand. “It was awesome meeting you but we’ve got to get food!” Without waiting for a response she drags you towards the tables. “Oh my God, Wonder Woman!”

“I know!” You gush back. Slipping your hand out of hers you grab a plate and bundled silverware in a napkin. “It’s like that everytime,” you tell her. After all, you never really get over the fact that you’re meeting _Wonder Woman_. Better to prepare her for that now than have her realize it the next time.

“Nooo,” Artemis elbows your side as she starts picking out food. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t want to be an embarrassment. I want her to think I’m _cool_.”

Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop a snort. “Arty, you _are_ cool. But not as cool as Diana. Hate to break it to you.”

“The worst,” she gestures at you with an ear of corn. “Ugh, why are we even friends?”

“Because near death experiences do that, and you know my secret identity. That pretty much makes us BFFs for life. Also you kinda want to steal our TV.” She’d have nowhere to put it in the apartment she shares with her mom anyways.

“It _is_ the most amazing TV I’ve seen in my life. Alright fine, we’re friends.” The two of you move on from the tables of side dishes to the grills, you get hotdogs from Red Tornado and Artemis gets a hamburger—and a brief conversation—from Dinah.

“Robin! Artemis!” M’gann’s voice rises above the general chatter. The both of you look up to see her floating above the tables, arms waving wildly.

You and Artemis share a look. “Guess we’ve got a table already.” It’s been about a month since you’ve seen them yourself. It’ll be nice to catch up.

It takes a few minutes to weave through the crowd, but you make it to the table. A round of ‘hellos’ erupts and as you settle in to eat it turns into a general conversation. It’s nice, and after a while you even forget about the heat.

You return to the food for seconds—puberty’s kind of annoying that way among others—and when you get back to the Titan’s table, it’s to find Artemis gone, not exactly replaced by Dick and a woman you don’t know. Dick introduces her as Donna, AKA Wondergirl, and lets you know that Artemis went off with Roy.

“I forgot a drink.” Dick might see through the lie but you head off before he can call you out on it. Once the crowd’s hidden you enough, you veer away from the direction of the tables and try to figure out the most likely places Artemis and Roy might be.

Eavesdropping might not be the best idea, but you’re both worried and curious about what she wants to talk to him about. Not helping is the vague memory of something Cheshire said about Red Arrow all those months ago. As much as Artemis _is_ your friend, she likely wouldn’t answer if you asked her directly. There’s many things about herself she keeps close to her chest, and you respect her enough not to go looking in whatever file Bruce has on her.

On the other hand never let it be said that you don’t do shit you shouldn’t based on rash decisions. Now being a prime example.

You’re almost by the vehicles when you hear low voices.

“...see how it’s any business of yours.” A man’s voice.

“It’s my business when she decides to use _me_ as a messenger.” Definitely Artemis, and an angry one at that. “She’s with the League of Assassin’s and you’re what, _dating?_ ”

Common sense rears its head and you turn around and head right back. You don’t need that sort of drama in your life if you can help it. Dick might have his love life mostly sorted out but you’ve also got Bruce and even knowing most of the women he dates are only to help with his ‘Brucie’ cover doesn’t mean _he’s_ a shining example for you.

Sure you’ve read romance novels and plenty of YA books with romance _in_ them. But the whole dating thing’s still is a weird mystery to you. One you’re not sure you _want_ to figure out. Books and friends are all you really need in life.

Even as your thoughts wander you’ve been trained by Batman long enough that you stop and get another soda from the drinks chests as cover. No matter that it’s been like twenty minutes since you left the table.

...Which now has even more people. There’s a man who’s talking in rapid-fire Atlantean with Kaldur, Garth, Cyborg—well Dick calls him Vic—and another red-head who you’d recognize as Wally even if Dick didn’t introduce you. “Nice to finally meet you Robin.” Wally’s grin is even broader than Dick’s, if such a thing is possible. “Dick’s talked a lot about you.”

“Do you just gush about me to everyone?” It’s not really a complaint. Embarrassing, on the other hand.

Dick ruffles your hair, and you bat his hand away. “Big brother privileges.”

You’d make a face but you’re eating now. Instead you kick his shin under the table. “Not my big brother, _Dick._ ”

This gets sniggers from most of the former and older Titans. “Oooo, roasted by the sidekick.” Gar’s almost gleeful. “I guess somebody in that weird family of yours has to puncture your ego.”

Dick manages to reach over the table and give Gar a noogie before he can turn into a snake and slip away. “Thanks, dude.” Somehow Wally got popcorn and is sharing it with Raven.

“Boys,” Kori’s voice is full of prim amusement. “We have to at least _act_ like responsible adults in front of the kids.”

Which gets howling laughter from you and Cyborg—M’gann and Kaldur are bemused and too cool respectively. “Nice one, Kori,” Cyborg’s grinning. “Gar, Dick, and Wally responsible adults.”

“Hey!” Wally says.

Good natured laughter fills the table. “She’s got you there Wally.” You’re pretty sure Donna’s eyes are actually glittering and it’s pretty. “You and Vic _did_ almost burn down the kitchen that one time.”

“Hey!” This time from Vic. “Don’t go pulling me into their shenanigans. Unlike most y’all,” he gives a haughty sniff. “ _I_ joined the League.” This comment earns him instant booing from Gar, Raven, and Kori. You join in on principle.

The banter and easy teasing continues. A warm satisfaction fills you, though you notice the absence of Artemis which dulls some of that feeling. You enjoy seeing this however, a reminder that things don’t have to change too much if you work hard to keep the bonds of friendship you have. Here’s to hoping that you do.

As you’re finishing off your second plate and debating a third—you are still hungry, but there’s also dessert to contend with—Artemis and Roy return, the both of them looking none too happy. You’re not the only one who notices. “Is something wrong?” It’s hard to tell if Kori or Donna says it first.

“It’s fine,” Roy doesn’t sound like he believes himself. “I’ve just got a headache is all.”

Dick’s up like a shot. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere nice and cool then. Raven, you want to see if you can do something?”

Raven nods and stands up as well. The three of them walk off. Artemis stays standing, her fingers twitching at her side—trying to not reach up for arrows that aren’t there, if you had to guess. “It’s...complicated. I’d rather not talk about it here.” Her eyes look around warily.

Now you’re the one who jumps up. “We can talk in the plane.” It might be a bit cramped depending on who all comes but it’ll be private and safe from eavesdroppers—the irony doesn’t escape you.

“Does it have something to do with your father?” Kori’s eyes are concerned, but not worried. Besides knowing he’s not in the picture anymore you don’t know anything about Artemis’ dad. Even with your concern, you’re curious.

Artemis shrugs. “Not really. But I guess it’s time I talked about him anyways.” You take her hand in your own and give it a squeeze. She squeezes back.

Kori nods. “Then I’ll be here if you need advice but am fine as I am.”

Most of the older Titans seem more worried about Roy than Artemis. Although Gar offers to be a cat or a dog if Artemis wants something to hug while she talks. It earns him a smile but Artemis shakes her head.

In the end it’s you, Artemis, M’gann, and Kaldur that climb into the plane and make yourselves comfortable in the seats. Artemis picks at the stitching on her seat, eyes looking down as her shoulders hunch in on themselves. “Do any of you know who Sportsmaster or Tigress are?”

M’gann shakes her head, you do too even though the names niggle at the back of your brain. “They’re both criminals,” Kaldur says. “Although Tigress has not been active for about a decade now. Sportsmaster is usually muscle for hire, often working with the League of Assassins but will do freelance work as well.” His gills flutter as you and M’gann stare at him in surprise. “I thought it best to read up on every criminal file I could find.”

“Yeah,” strained laughter leaves Artemis. “Well, they’re also my parents.” Your eyes widen. Paula Nguyen had been Tigress? It didn’t quite compute in your head. Ms. Nguyen seemed so unassuming. “Oh, and my sister’s Cheshire. And apparently flirting with Roy and...Jesus how is this my life?”

M’gann floats over and wraps her arms tightly around Artemis. “Thank you for telling us, Artemis.”

There’s something weird about realizing that your best friend’s sister almost killed you. You’re not mad at Artemis about keeping this from you. Her secrets are her own. You _are_ grateful that she shared this one with all of you.

“Yes,” Kaldur moves as well. Sitting crosslegged on the floor and taking Artemis’ hands in his own. “I know well myself how difficult it can be to have a parent who is not what you hoped they would be.” He gives a wry smile.

“You have us though,” M’gann’s body morphs a bit as she presses in even closer. “If things get rough for you there’ll always be a place for you in the Tower.” Her smile is as bright as Kaldur’s was wry. “That’s what a team’s supposed to be.”

There’s a twist in your gut, you’re the odd person out at the moment and while you want to speak up all the words you can think of dry up in your mouth and you hate yourself a little for it. You should be able to comfort her like the friend you are, but here you are sitting a few feet away and doing nothing but staring.

Artemis’ smile is a watery one and it makes you twist even more. “Thanks. That...means a lot to me. It’s just been hard. Kori knows, but you’re different.” Twist, twist, because she doesn’t even look at you. If this is what jealousy is, you hate it.

Your temples and nose sting from where you rip off the mask. It barely makes a whisper as it hits the floor, neither do you when you march up and embrace Artemis’ other side. “I’m kind of a shit friend,” you mutter into her neck. Relief washes through you as she frees an arm to wrap around you, but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

“Jesus, Jason. I know you care, don’t go beating yourself up _too_ much.” The slip has you all freezing, if for different reasons. You hadn’t taken your mask off to reveal your identity after all, it’s just easier to _connect_ without it in the way.

It’s not worth the fight on the blush, so you let it spread across your cheeks as M’gann and Kaldur stare at you. “Your eyes are pretty,” M’gann’s tone is hushed. “Like chocolate and sunshine.” Her eyes shift to match yours and you find yourself burying your face in Artemis’ neck.

“Save me Arty, tell them something else about yourself.” Her shoulders shake with real laughter and even with the embarrassment and dying jealousy you’re happy you managed to lift her mood.

“It is a good name,” Kaldur sounds like he’s trying to be comforting. “Like the Greek hero.” There’s a silver lining that they only know your first name. Jason’s pretty common thankfully.

You pull away from Artemis to roll your eyes. “Iason was an asshole.” To be fair basically all Greek heroes were. Turning your attention from Kaldur you give a small smile to Artemis. “Uh, sorry for stealing your moment?” _She’s_ the reason they’re here after all.

It earns you an eye roll. “Was my fault, and thanks. I honestly don’t want everyone to make that big a deal out of it. Half my family’s awful and there’s not much I can do about it.” She shrugs. “No use trying to dwell on it.”

Kaldur squeezes her hand, his gray eyes earnest. “Thank you anyways. For telling us.”

“Should M’gann and I leave you alone?” You’re not excited about being _that_ friend, but M’gann’s still not good on picking up body cues and that blush on Artemis is about as sure a sign as can be.

Kaldur’s blushing now, too. Instead of waiting for an answer you rummage around in one of the compartments and find a pair of sunglasses, shoving them on one handed as you grab M’gann’s arm in the other. “Come on, we’ll let them make out in peace.” You deserve an award for being an excellent friend at this point.

“Oh, yes!” M’gann gives a smile as it clicks for her. “Have fun!” She calls back as the two of you depart. Artemis and Kaldur’s groans following you as you lead M’gann back to the BBQ.


	19. Chapter 19

With the summer heat returning with a vengeance, you become something of a shut-in again. Or try to be. You’ve got Artemis now stopping by and happily dragging you places. There’s also traveling to DC, this time for Nationals instead of fun. GA places third and Rena’s satisfaction trickles down to you all.

As July turns into August you end up fleeing to San Francisco—just as bright, but the heat’s more tolerable.

You even get convinced to come down to the beach with some of the other Titans. On your way out, you pass Raven curled up in the great room with a book. While you’re sure you’ll enjoy yourself out on the beach, you’re kind of jealous. “Not gonna join us?”

She looks up from her book and shakes her head. “I decided to give all my sunbathing time to Kori, I think she needs it more than I do, anyways.”

Between laughter you manage to get out, “Damn, should’ve thought of that myself.”

Her smile is conspiratorial as she returns to her book. Readjusting your beach bag, you head out yourself. You wave back when you see Kaldur waving you over.

On the beach proper you see Kori laid out, sunbathing like Raven said she’d be. A splash draws your attention to the water where you see M’gann and Gar having a water fight of some sort—Gar’s currently a seal but M’gann gave herself two more arms, so it’s a sort of stalemate.

Your sunscreen’s waterproof, so you could go join them, but instead you join Artemis and Kaldur under one of the giant beach umbrellas set up. “Decided to try and one up a sand _castle_?” So far they seem to be doing it, their sand ‘city’ almost reaching the far edge of the umbrella—a third of it’s in the sun so they’ve clearly been at it a while.

“Either help or get out of the way, boy wonder.” Artemis snaps playfully.

You drop your bag and kneel in the sand next to her. “Are we working off a plan or just making it up as we go along?”

“I had jokingly suggested we make Atlantis,” Kaldur’s tattoos glow briefly and the sand around them gets damp. “Artemis however insisted we do our own thing.” Making it up as they go along then. You can work with that.

Grabbing an empty bucket you leave the shade of the umbrella for the waterline, scooping up sand and shouting a few encouraging words to M’gann. When you get back you don’t turn over your bucket, instead scooping out handfuls of sand and using them to craft much more interesting looking buildings.

The three of you work within the shade of the umbrella, constructing fast enough that as the sun moves you do as well. M’gann even joins you later, conceding the water fight to Gar—who does a few dolphin leaps in victory. As the city grows even bigger, you all start making up the history of it, and you enjoy coming up with more and more wild and over the top stories.

“...but then the dragon swooped down!” You aim for the part of the city you’ve been working on, deciding if you’re going to destroy some of it, it might as well be your own work. “Everyone ran screaming as the dragon started to tear up the nearby buildings.” Sand goes flying as your foot hits the fragile buildings.

Clapping pulls you a little out of it. Blinking you realize Kaldur, Artemis, and M’gann are staring at you—Gar left and Kori’s still stretched out on her towel; you think she might be asleep. M’gann’s the one clapping and seems unconcerned with the fact that you’ve stopped. “What an excellent story!”

Your ears burn, but not from the sun. “Um,” you rub the back of your neck. “Thanks?” Sure you read a lot and are on debate team, neither of those you feel have any real impact on being a good storyteller. Your friends seem to think otherwise on the other hand, and even through the embarrassment there’s pleasure.

“Okay.” Artemis reaches out and stops M’gann’s clapping. “But what’s gonna happen next?”

Rocking on your feet you shrug. “I mean the dragon could get stopped, or it could destroy the city. I guess it depends on whether or not we want to keep this or not.” The tide’s liable to wash it away eventually anyways, but there’s something to be said for keeping it.

“Oh!” M’gann shifts her hands away from Artemis and floats up. “Let me get my camera before we destroy it!” She zooms back towards the tower.

“It seems that’s one vote in favor of the dragon,” Kaldur sounds amused. “I think I am in agreement with M’gann. As much work as we put into this it would also be enjoyable to wreck it all.”

Artemis rolls her eyes. “You just want to be Godzilla. Granted that _would_ be fun.”

You huff at the both of them as M’gann flies back. This isn’t what you expected to happen at all. Now that your focus is pulled away from building and talking on the other hand, you find you’re hungry. It’d be nice to go back inside too. Regardless of what happens you think you’re done for the day.

“Ooo! We need one of all of us in front of it.” M’gann barrels into your side as she flies down. She stops the both of you from hitting the sand city though. Her free hand gestures Kaldur and Artemis closer while the one with the camera stretches out until it’s a good two feet up in the air.

You’re sandwiched between Kaldur and M’gann and there are worse places to be. As she counts down you find yourself yanking off your sunglasses smile growing as you join the others in staring at the camera. There’s the shutter sound and a second later. “Okay! One more!” Another countdown.

This time however when she reaches one sand explodes behind you all as the shutter goes off. You all whirl around, prepared for an attack to see Kori floating in the air. Hands glowing green and cackling with laughter.

“Dragon!” You’re pleased you’re not the only one who shouts it. Grabbing sand you join the others in attempting to hit Kori with it.

-

It’s ridiculously early on the morning of your thirteenth birthday when you trudge from your bedroom to the kitchen. It’s not nightmares or any such thing that sends you there, just a pressing inability to sleep, and hunger.

The light from the freezer makes you blink. Once you’re used to it though you reach in and grab the tub of Neapolitan nestled in the back. Five minutes later you’re curled up on the couch digging in with a spoon, with only the light of your phone to illuminate anything nearby. Even with ice cream, it’s easy enough to get lost in _Sourcery_.

A rattle in the kitchen jerks your attention away however. Your body aches a little; the last time you’d gotten up was to put the ice cream away and who knows how long ago that was. A crick in your neck makes itself known when you turn to look into the kitchen. “M’gann?” You’re not wondering if it’s her, just what she’s doing in the kitchen at, you check your phone, four-thirty in the morning.

She whirls around and her eyes widen. “You’re supposed to be asleep!” Without any ceremony she’s lifting you with her telekinesis and floating your towards the hallway. “Out! Back to your room or something. Shoo!”

Bemused more than anything you go, grateful she hadn’t seemed to notice your hair wasn’t the color she expects it to be.

Back in your room you attach your wig before dressing properly and heading back out. Since you’re apparently banned from the kitchen and living room you head down to the gym, certain you’ll want to be hungry for whatever M’gann might be preparing.

Artemis and Gar join you about an hour later, the both of them making faces at the fact you’ve got NPR on the radio. “Dude, booorrriinng.”

You stick your tongue out, but don’t argue when Artemis plugs in her iPod and starts playing ‘80s music.

“Spar?” Artemis cocks her hips as you finish your set on the uneven bars.

Dismounting you shake your head. “Should probably shower and get breakfast.” It’s been drilled into you to take care of yourself and you’re _really_ hungry now. Breakfast sounds just about right.

“Oh come on,” Artemis’ tone is cajoling. You’re starting to get the impression that she and Gar are _keeping_ you here. It’s an...odd realization. There’s obviously something related to your birthday afoot, hopefully it’s not supposed to be a ‘surprise’ party.

“The last thing I ate was ice cream Arty, I’m hungry.” As much fun as it is to spar with her, you don’t budge from that.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She points at Gar. “Keep him here, I’ll be right back.” This is going to be one of _those_ days.

“In my defense.” Gar shifts into a retriever, trying to win some cute sympathy likely. “This was _not_ my idea.” Unashamed he trots up to you and ducks his head under your hand. “I got outvoted on pizza.”

“Pizza’s not the answer to everything,” you respond. Your fingers scratch absently.

He snorts. “Shows what you know.”

The only good answer to that is to roll your eyes.

Artemis soon returns, the blindfold in her hands not suspicious at all. She holds it out to you. “Really?” It comes out more a whine than you’d like. With everyone knowing what the hell’s going on, on the other hand it feels absurd.

“M’gann insisted.” Artemis offers it again in emphasis. “Sooner you put it on, sooner we can eat.” When she puts it like that.

With a sigh you take it and put it on, even making sure it’s broad enough that you can’t see out the bottom. This isn’t the first time you’ve been blindfolded and led, so there’s that. It means you don’t trip over yourself in trying to stay balanced. Artemis is a good enough guide you can focus on listening. Yours and Artemis’ footsteps, along with Gar’s four-footed gait, fade away; as does the hum of the Tower itself.

There’s a rhythm of conversation, and the sounds of the others moving around. Which is about all you can hear.

You take a deep breath as Artemis turns you and the air shifts slightly, doing your best to gather _some_ surprise. All your friends _did_ manage to do this under your nose until the last minute, it deserves appreciation and the proper response.

Artemis stops you and you feel her undo the knot holding the blindfold. It falls away.

“Happy birthday, Jason!” The chorus comes from all around you.

As you look around you don’t have to fake surprise as much as you thought you might. Well, perhaps it’s more of an undisguised affection.

There’s a giant banner hanging on the wall; a table covered in snacks and cheap plastic toys, the centerpiece of which is a cake—perhaps not the most well decorated one you’ve seen but well done even so—everyone’s wearing party hats. Even Kaldur and Raven and you are not going to pass up the chance to take pictures of either.

M’gann floats over and puts one of the hats on you too, the elastic digging into skin. “I hope you like it! The cake and snacks are for later technically, but I made french toast for breakfast.”

“Yeah,” the idea of lying doesn’t even occur to you. You swallow. “Thanks, everyone, for doing this.” It feels unreal that you’ve been here for two years now, two years you’re not sure you’d ever take back if given the choice.

Gar’s arm slings over your shoulders, drawing you from your thoughts before you can become to mired in them. “Come on! Let’s eat.”

The whole team usually doesn’t have breakfast together, but the chaos is passing familiar from life in the Manor. Makes it easy enough to get lost in it and just be. By the end you’re doing your best not to lean back—wouldn’t want to fall off the stool—and groan. “I’m not sure I can eat anything else today.”

M’gann’s face looks worried for a moment before she realizes you’re joking. Everyone’s lethargic as they stand and start cleaning up. You attempt to join in, but Kori unceremoniously tosses you out. “No work for the birthday boy.”

“Nice try, boy wonder,” Artemis teases as she lays a towel on her shoulder. “Go load up a game we can all play.”

“So demanding,” you snipe back. She flips her hair over her shoulder with a sniff and joins in the cleaning. You roll your eyes at her back but go into the great room. Turning on the TV, you flip through the numerous games. Settling on the newest version of Brawl, you get it set up.

That done, you grab a controller and fling yourself onto the loveseat, claiming the whole thing for yourself. As the others filter in, it earns you a few good natured jibes, granted the couch is big enough for Artemis, Gar, and Kaldur. Raven, Kori, and M’gann can just float—which you’ll admit is actually kind of cool.

You join in on the bickering over characters, ending up with Princess Peach. You’re not first up on the tournament however, so you get to relax and get into the trash talking mood.

Kaldur wins the first tournament, but you snag the second by the skin of your teeth, only for Kori to come out of left field and get the third. Gar and Artemis both insist on switching games, so it’s onto Mario Kart.

By the time you’ve all done a few races on that, you’re starting to get hungry again. As the birthday boy, you feel no shame in calling a brief time out, and Gar and M’gann join you in getting more food.

“Come on!” Artemis calls out. “You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

Adding a handful of BBQ chips to your pile of snacks you call back, “What? You mean _your_ inevitable defeat? You drive slower than Superman and it’s embarrassing Arty.”

“Oh it’s on, Jason.” Her eyes track you as you claim the loveseat again. Her whole body radiates tension as the countdown for the next race begins. Everyone’s off like a shot. You manage to both race and get the occasional bite of food. That fact might be what cost you first place, which goes to M’gann, but you get second and Artemis gets third. Which is a win in your book.

A few hours later, everyone’s digging into their cake and ice cream when your phone rings. A part of you lights up when you recognize it as Bruce’s ringtone. Making your excuses you—and your plate—head to your room, making sure the door is closed all the way and locked. “Hello.”

“Hello, Jason,” Bruce’s voice sounds a little off, but as you hear more sounds you realize it’s because he has the phone on speaker.

“Hi, Little Wing!”

“Hello, Master Jason.”

You climb into your computer chair, swiveling it around. Your cheeks hurt as they start to sing ‘happy birthday.’ Dick’s enthusiasm overwhelms Bruce and Alfred some, but that’s to be expected. As the song winds to a close, Dick just ends up cheering and you laugh.

The sounds grow less as Bruce switches back from speaker. “Will you be coming back soon?”

“I don’t know,” you pull your knees up to your chest, “how hot is it over there?” Your tone is joking. Can’t stay here forever after all, you and Arty have school soon.

“Hot,” Bruce answers. You can picture the smile on his face. “Even so I hope you’ll be here soon, not quite the same without you.” There’s a tightness in your chest that makes your smile grow again. “Happy birthday, Jay.”

A sniffle tries to escape but you hold it back. “Thanks, dad.”

The word stretches between you. Longer and longer until you can’t take it anymore. Hanging up you toss your phone across the room. Face buried in your knees, you cry yourself raw.

-

Bruce sits there for a long minute, the dial tone droning in his ear. He fights the urge to call back, to comfort Jason. He holds back however. Dick hadn’t appreciated it when Bruce tried almost a decade ago. He can give Jason that time.

Hanging up the phone, he sets it on the desk and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He’ll tell Jason when the boy gets back. It would be better to talk about in person anyways.


	20. Chapter 20

When the Batplane comes to pick you and Artemis up a week later, it’s empty.

You and Artemis share a worried look, but when you peer into the cockpit you see a sticky note on the controls, and if this were some evil plot you’re pretty sure it wouldn’t involve a sticky note. Well, not one in fuschia pink anyways.

 _Sorry_ , it reads, _gotta get yourselves home - Dick_. There’s even a little robin doodle—which is all the proof you need it’s from Dick. Yet none of that is as comforting as you’d like it to be.

After getting the autopilot set up, you make yourself as comfortable as you can. You might know how to fly the plane, but that doesn’t mean you _want_ to, if it comes down to it. To get some answers and stave off more of the worry you call Alfred. Artemis leans over your shoulder to watch the screen in the dash.

“Hello Robin, Artemis.” Alfred’s face and voice are comforting as always. His use of codenames not so much—though you’re pretty sure it’s just Bruce’s paranoia again. “Batman thought you might call.”

“What happened?” _Something_ had to.

Alfred’s face grows long. “There was an attempted bombing last night at a mall in South Gotham. Batgirl was able to disable it in time, but from what Batman has uncovered it’s likely the bomber will try to strike again.”

Artemis’ chin ends up on your shoulder as she slumps, and you tilt your head enough for it to press against hers. “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“The offer is appreciated Artemis. While I’m sure Batman will decline, I see no harm in having an extra set of eyes and ears, so long as you’re careful.”

“Your mom’s gonna worry,” you say it quietly. You’re not trying to dissuade her, but Artemis sometimes has a habit of forgetting things like that. “Thanks, A, for the info. We’ll be there in a few hours.”

Alfred manages something like a smile. “Safe travels as always, and it will be good to have you back home.” He ends the call and you turn off the screen.

Removing her chin Artemis falls back into her own seat. “I know mom’ll worry. Her worrying isn’t anything new on the other hand.” There’s an arrow in her hands and she twirls it like a baton. “Just hate sitting on my ass and not doing anything.”

“I’d appreciate the backup,” you agree. It’s not that you don’t trust anyone else in your ‘family’—the thought sends a sharp pang through you—but it’s different with Artemis. You scrub a hand over your face. “Give me Poison Ivy or Mr. Freeze any day of the week.” Better than dealing with possible terrorists.

It earns you a wan smile from Artemis.

-

It takes a week, one of the worst in your life, before the bastard gets caught. Anthony Jones and his lily white ass are going to prison, with three dead and twelve injured on his head.

Even with the terrorist caught, Bruce attempts to keep going on with his life. It takes you, Alfred, and Kate to get him to actually _sleep_ after three days awake. Almost militantly you set up camp in the hall in front of Bruce’s door, glaring at him every time he tries to leave. These attempts grow  less and less over the next few hours and he’s either asleep or given up on trying to leave. Going in to check would only wake him up, so you can’t find out which it might be.

After the nine hour mark however you think he might actually be asleep and head back to your own room.

The air tastes stale—you’ve been sleeping in the Cave since you got back—so you throw your curtains back and open the windows. Even with the heat there’s enough of a breeze to make it tolerable.

You also do some cleaning up—one of your few legitimate chores—halfway through though you know you’re just doing it to put off the inevitable. Tossing the last shirt into the hamper you make yourself turn and face the small table in the corner.

Originally the photograph had sat on your desk, but over the past two years it’s accumulated enough knick knacks that you’ve had to move it or give up your desk as a whole. So, you’d kidnapped a bedside table from another room and moved everything there.

The photo takes the place of honor, as it should. Everything else you sort of scattered around it, with no particular overall scheme in mind. Final grade reports lay next to sealed fathers and mother’s day cards. Little wrapped Christmas presents have dried flowers scattered atop them. Postcards from San Francisco and D.C. are propped up against a truly awful porcelain robin Artemis got you as a joke. All the things you want your parents to see, everything that sparks off a story you want them to know, just laying there.

It doesn’t make you angry to see. Just disappointed in yourself. You _forgot_ them, if only for a moment.

There’s no denying that Bruce has been good to you. He took you in and cares about you, gave you something that would make your parents proud, you hope. Bruce Wayne is _not_ your father though, can never be.

You slump to the floor, arms holding yourself as you try to cry.

-

Eighth grade is welcome at this point. Something to throw yourself into. Though it means you have to come to terms with the fact you’ve grown a foot since the summer started—easier to ignore with the Titans when everyone stole everyone else’s clothes anyways. Everyone in debate’s still riding high from Nationals. Rena still wants her last year as captain to be the best yet, so she puts all that energy to good use.

There’s also hanging out with Artemis, who understands that _something_ happened but doesn’t pry. She seems content for now to wait for you to work up the courage to tell her yourself.

The rest of the ‘family’ has noticed something happened as well, though they all seem content to ignore it. A plan you’re all for, if you’re honest. Only Bruce might know what happened, but it’s enough. The fact that he doesn’t try to talk to you about it like he has so many other things is something of a relief. You’re afraid of what you might say if he did try.

-

You and Batman are chasing down the Riddler—after a few weeks ago he’s sort of a welcome relief—he’s managed to get the both of you in a giant freaking maze he somehow constructed without anyone noticing.

Progress is decent, you’re doing the left hand thing and have managed to deal with the riddles and ‘monsters’ Eddie’s thrown your way.

Leaping over Batman’s shoulder, you toss a birdarang into a ‘minotaur’s eye. The robot stops, before spasming and hitting the ground. “How many of these things did he build?” The two of you have dealt with at least a dozen and you can’t be more than a quarter of the way through the maze. You make yourself comfortable as Batman pries open the torso, digging around for whatever ‘clue’ they’ve been left this time.

“As many as he needs, I’m sure.” Batman pulls out a small glass box. He not-frowns at it.

From your angle though… “Looks like one of those holographic things. Give it a turn.” Batman might be the world’s greatest detective but even he needs a suggestion from time to time.

Batman gives it a turn. “A chrysanthemum.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes. “What sort of riddle involves flowers, a daily calendar, handcuffs, and a pencil case?” Whatever it is you think Eddie might be reaching a bit.

Slipping it into his belt with everything else, Batman only grunts. “We need to keep going.”

-

A bad case of the Mondays indeed, you think to yourself the next week. Not that many people notice, you’re always withdrawn in class for the most part. Artemis does on the other hand, and yanks you outside for lunch. “What’s up?”

You make a frustrated noise for a few seconds as you open up your lunch. “I don’t know I’m just,” you do your best to make a face that’s both angry and ‘meh,’ most likely failing at both. “Not all the time, but,” you shrug. Unsure of how to describe it.

“Mmm,” Artemis says as she finishes her bite of sandwich. “If you don’t think it’s anything specific it’s probably puberty having it’s dastardly way with you. Also, I hope you appreciate the fact I’ve seriously used the word ‘dastardly.’” She takes another bite.

“Thanks,” you drawl. “Also I’d just like to skip the rest of it now, please. I’m too tall now and it’s _weird_.” You can look Dick in the eye and it unnerves you. “It means I’ve got to rework everything and, ugh.”

Artemis shrugs. “You’ll get used to it. Anyways it could be worse. Don’t have to bleed once a month.”

“Could be argued that the both of us bleed once a week,” you shoot back.

She tosses a bit of lettuce from her sandwich at you. “Ass.”

“Love you too, Arty.”


	21. Chapter 21

Thanksgiving break hits and you’re excited. You and Bruce—Dick’s having Thanksgiving with Babs and Alfred claimed some much deserved vacation time—take the jet—Wayne not Bat—to Kansas City. And from there drive to Smallville.

The Kent family farm is cozy, even if it takes you a day or two to get used to the difference in pace. That doesn’t stop you from enjoying things like learning how to milk cows and feed chickens—it’s also funny to see Bruce pretend to be baffled when Clark ropes him into helping—Krypto following you around with seemingly boundless excitement. Driving a tractor was pretty cool too.

Martha and Jonathan, who’ve insisted you call them Ma and Pa like everyone else, are about the nicest people you’ve ever met. You’re not sure if you want to know if anyone told them about your puberty woes or they just guessed themselves; either way you’re inundated with numerous stories about Clark’s own awkward teenage years. It’s hard to tell if they make you feel better, but they do make you laugh.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Tonight it’s only eight o’clock and everyone save you, Bruce, and Lois are asleep. You understand going to bed early means you can get up early and still be well rested, but you’re too much of a night-bird to actually  _ think _ of doing it yourself. Bruce is on his laptop—he might have willingly agreed to this but that doesn't stop him fretting about Gotham or the others.

You’d brought more than enough books to last you five days, but you find yourself unable to concentrate on the words on the page. With a soft huff you put your bookmark where you left off and put the book down.

“Should be getting your reading in now, kid,” Lois smiles as she walks back into the room, steaming mug of hot chocolate in hand. “Gonna be chaotic as all get out tomorrow, not gonna get a chance to take a break.” You have a good idea of that already. Ma had already agreed to let you help with some of the cooking—which had pleased you more than you thought it would—but you’re sure your main job tomorrow is going to be toddler-wrangling. Jon’s still not flying, so that’s one less thing you’ve got to worry about. 

“Can’t focus.” Your brain is demanding something a bit more involved. “Scrabble?” The Kent’s board is old and ragged, but it’s not as if Scrabble’s changed much. It’d be kind of fun to go up against Lois, too. Bruce might play it with you sometimes—he’s got the vocabulary for it—but he does prefer games with more strategy to them.

Lois’ purple eyes gleam. “Brave, challenging a journalist to Scrabble.” Carefully she sits cross-legged on the floor next to the coffee table. Taking that as agreement, you grab the narrow box and sit across from her. She grabs the bag of tiles from you and gives it a few firm shakes.

From his own chair Bruce snorts. “He goes through books faster than I can buy them, Lois.” Your cheeks pinken. “I think he’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” she’s talking more to you than Bruce. “Don’t get much chance to play if I’m honest. You can go first, Jason.”

You put down ‘lies’ and it goes from there.

Time probably passes, but you’re not aware of it. You and Lois are having a debate about whether ‘infortunate’ is a legal move or not—it’s a word in the dictionary! It counts!—when Bruce clears his throat. “Pretty sure it’s time for you to head to bed, Jason. Gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

With vague confusement you turn and look at the clock on the mantle, which claims it’s one AM. “Ooops.” You give Lois a faint smile. “Continue this later?” She’s only ahead by about ten points, won’t be that hard to catch up. Especially after just putting down ‘infortunate’ on a double letter bonus.

“Sure thing, kiddo.” With that reassurance you hop up and make your way upstairs.

-

Both Bruce and Lois’d been right about Thanksgiving being chaos. Ma allows you first crack at the kitchen since the cranberry sauce can be started and be left alone after a certain point. After that point, on the other hand, Ma—who’d been cutting vegetables—kicks you out and she and Pa really get going.

“What do you think, Jon?” Lois had handed him over the exact second you’d stepped out of the kitchen and left to go for a walk. Bruce got roped into helping Clark with the farm chores, so it’s just the two of you in the living room for now. While the Kent’s TV might be old, it still gets the Discovery Channel and you’re more than happy to watch the Mythbusters marathon with Jon. Krypto happily gets his belly scratched by you.

“Ducks,” Jon responds solemnly. His purple eyes are glued to the TV.

With a grin, you shift him a little on your lap so you’re more comfortable. “Definitely ducks,” you agree. “Think they’ll quack?”

Jon shakes his head. “Gobble-gobble.”

A laugh leaves you. “That’d be a turkey, dude. You’d think you’d know your farm animals better.” You snicker at the thought of telling that to Clark. “Ducks definitely quack.” Not that anyone on screen’s having any luck with that.

The comment earns you a whack on the arm, and as you don’t go flying across the room you’re gonna call it a win. “Sush.”

You stick your tongue out at the back of Jon’s head.

-

After a massive dinner—you have no doubt that you and Bruce’ll be bringing leftovers home—everyone sort of slumps in the living room, happy to not do much in the way of anything.

You and Lois pick up your Scrabble game. Jon’s sitting in Lois’ lap and she absently takes the tiles from him before he can put them in his mouth. “No honey.” Her eyes stay focused on the board though. She lays down ‘defensible’.

Making a face you examine the board. Tiles are almost gone and you’re running out of options. You’re not sure whether it’d be better to play out or give up now. She’s got more points, barely, but going on might give you more of a lead. Not that you’re sure you  _ can _ put down a word. You groan and put your chin in your hand. “I’ve got nothing. I think that’s it for me.”

Lois smiles and looks down at Jon. “You hear that Jon, mom won.” Jon claps and laughs.

“Not sure you should be bragging about beating a thirteen year old Lois,” Clark’s tone is full of wry amusement.

Ma whacks him with a knitting needle. “She won fair and square Clark, let her have her moment.”

Rolling her eyes, Lois looks at Clark. “Pretty sure there’s nothing wrong about beating the kid who can use ‘obsequious’ correctly in a sentence. Should’ve gone into spelling bees, not debate team, Jason.”

You duck your head, ears turning pink when you notice Bruce’s proud smile. “Another game?” It doesn’t come out as a squeak thankfully—you’ve managed to escape acne thus far, but you do get the crack in your voice sometimes. Hard to sound threatening when that happens.

“How about something we can all play?” Pa suggests. “Be a good way to pass the time while we wait for dessert.”

A collective groan erupts from you, Bruce, and Lois over the mention of ‘dessert.’ Sure Ma’s pie is the stuff of legend—and worth every bit of the hype—but you’re still full up from dinner and contemplating dessert is the last thing on your mind.

“Scattergories?” Bruce suggests at the same time Clark says “charades.”

It starts up a lively debate, one you’re more than happy to sit out on. You’re more inclined towards Scattergories, but it’d be fun to see Bruce do charades.

In the end it’s settled on Scattergories. You, Clark, and Ma are a team, with Pa, Lois, and Bruce on the other. Jon happily plays with wooden blocks, building up towers and knocking them down to great delight, Krypto nudging them back when they get too far away.

Scattergories passes a good few hours. It’s as good a workout for your brain as Scrabble was. There’s a brief pause as everyone gets up and gets apple pie and ice cream, but then it picks up again. It works out that both Clark and Lois are distracted in making sure Jon  _ eats _ his food instead of making a mess, so neither team’s got that much advantage.

Eventually though, the day catches up to you and after saying your goodnights you stumble up to bed and fall asleep within minutes of climbing into bed.

-

You might have enjoyed Smallville and the Kents’, but it’s nice to be back in Gotham all the same. Winter’s starting to show its true bite as you swing through the air, as if the snow on the ground weren’t evidence enough of the season.

As much as Dick might protest, maybe it’s time to suggest a change to the suit. Pants would be great right about now.

Those thoughts pass out of your mind as you alight on the rooftop, coming to a stand right next to Batman. “What’s the sitch?” He’d been a bit hedgy when he’d commed you. While you’d’ve liked to hang out with Artemis more, when Batman called you couldn’t exactly say no.

“Two-Face,” is all Batman says for the moment.

Reaching into your belt you pull out binoculars, training them on the building across from you. It’s a theater of all places, the prominent comedy/tragedy masks on the front perhaps the main reason Two-Face targeted it. The marquee has dates for  _ Hello Dolly! _ across it, none of which are today, so there’s possibly no one else inside but Two-Face and his goons. “Is there a plan, or are we winging it?”

In your comms you hear Batgirl call in, dealing with a robbery of her own. Dick’s in Central City for the week and Kate’s taking the night off for a date. So for now you and Batman are on your own, but it could be worse you suppose.

“Carefully,” Batman’s tone is cautionary. “It seems a simple break-in, but you never know with Harvey. His people are going to be heavily armed as well.” 

You make a sound of acknowledgement. Putting the binoculars away you snag your grappling gun. “This doesn’t exactly seem like his sort of heist.” Sure there’s the two masks, but that’s kind of pushing it. If Harvey’s working through his two fixation, that actually makes him even more dangerous.

Batman grunts. “That’s why we’re going to take this carefully. Be on guard, and don’t do anything until my signal, understand?”

“Yeah, B,” a sound of agreement won’t work this time. Once your grappling hook digs into the theater you swing across, and you have a bit of luck, finding an open window. Slipping in, you follow the sounds of people. Robin might usually be the distraction, but you can be sneaky when the time calls for it.

Up in the catwalks of the stage, you look down to see Two-Face and about four goons. They don’t seem to be doing more than standing there and it just makes you more suspicious. Are they waiting for someone, or is this a trap?

A batarang goes flying, hitting Two-Face in the shoulder. He stumbles back and you blink as you see him absorb the batarang and heal. To your surprise, the goons look as surprised as you do.

“Great,” you say into the comms. “Clayface.”

You drop a few smoke bombs and join the fray. And here you’d kind of been hoping to be able to use ‘a pox on both your faces.’


	22. Chapter 22

Winter break starts with you and a broken leg. Perhaps the most embarrassing thing is that it doesn’t happen because of some patrol gone pear shaped, but because you were goofing around with Artemis.

After she stops feeling bad about it, she does roll her eyes and laugh.

The next time she sees you, she has at your red cast with a sharpie, happily claiming all the space Dick and Babs haven’t already doodled on. Finishing a truly awful drawing of what you think’s supposed to be a dog, she caps the pen and grins. “Wish the others could see this.” No Titans for you this break.

“I hate you,” you grouse. She catches your swipe with a crutch before it can hit her.

She whaps your nose with the sharpie. “Don’t be like that Jason. We still love your nerdy ass, even when it’s not there. And think of it this way, you won’t have to wear your wig all the time.” Her smile is unrepentant.

There is that. “You’d better not peek at the present I got you.” It’s perhaps on the nose, but it’s not your fault Artemis still has that Alice in Wonderland poster on her wall. “Otherwise I might disown you.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Bab’s voice cuts into the conversation. “It’d make family dinners hella awkward.”

Artemis fakes a gasp. “Oh no, not the family dinners!”

“Why is everyone I know like this?” It sounds more like a lament than a complaint.

You get snagged by Artemis and she gives you a noogie. “Says you Jason. You’re the worst of us, admit it.”

Escaping her is easy, not that you expect Babs to give you any sort of break. “Bruce!” You call out as you see him pass the doorway. “Babs and Artemis are being mean!”

Bruce just keeps on walking. You try to call out to him again, but you end up joining Babs and Artemis in laughter. You’re not sure why they’re laughing. For you it’s the idea that Bruce Wayne, _the_ Batman, is afraid of Babs and Artemis. The idea’s too good to pass up. “Coward!” You manage to get out between laughs.

-

Christmas happens the same as last year, save that you’re not running around helping out thanks to your leg. Instead of helping with the food, you find yourself getting roped into helping entertain the kids.

Luckily you’ve got good memory—if perhaps not as good as Babs—so you’re able to retell _A Christmas Carol_ fairly well, _Hogfather_ too. Although that one does get a bit of the social commentary cut out. The kids still seem to enjoy it. A few of the younger ones chase each other around pretending to be Death. It’s great.

When you get home there’s a Skype call with the Titans—you do remember the wig. There’s a lot of ‘thank you’s for your various gifts, and Artemis promising to bring you back the gifts everyone got you. You’re pretty sure Artemis is teary eyed over the illustrated _Through the Looking Glass_ you got her, or that’s what you’re going to think until she says otherwise. You enjoy the call, but wish you could’ve been there to share it with them in person.

You make promises you’ll be there for spring break, barring any major disasters, and hang up.

Warmth grows in your chest as you sit there for a few moments. Taking a deep breath, you stand and head downstairs for dinner.

-

“I want to paint my bedroom.” It’s the first of the new year and you’re having brunch instead of breakfast if only because Bruce let himself sleep in for a change.

Bruce doesn’t respond right away; you’d think he was hungover if you knew he didn’t drink. “Any particular reason or just because?” He closes the paper and takes a bite of his toast while looking at you.

You shrug. “I mean the yellow’s not bad. But it’s the color that was there before I picked it. I kind of want it to be the color _I_ want for my bedroom.” The words make something strange curl inside you, you find yourself doing your best to ignore it however.

“That seems reasonable. Any ideas on color or should I be getting swatches?” You roll your eyes at the tease.

“Maybe a green? I won’t say no to swatches either way.” While it’s something you’ve been thinking about off and on, the actual decision is pretty spur of the moment.

Bruce smiles. “I’ll have Alfred get you some then, and maybe we can go through them together.”

You take a bite of hashbrowns and nod.

-

Perhaps you and Artemis are having more fun than you should painting your room—you ended up settling on a dark forest green. You let her pick the music so there’s a lot of 80s hair metal and rap—although you doubt Alfred enjoys it blaring from the open windows and doors—the two of you bobbing your heads along as you drag rollers across the walls. You’re glad you asked her for help over accepting Bruce’s offer.

Even with the two of you singing with more enthusiasm than skill, you don’t miss the sounds of someone stalking past the door. Curiosity tugging you along, you set your roller down and stick your head out into the hall. “Hey Dick,” you call out to his retreating back.

He stops and you can see something tense in the line of his shoulders. When he turns around his smile looks a bit too forced. “Hey, Little Wing. Having fun painting?”

“Yeah,” you find yourself torn on whether to pry or not. “Want to join us?” It’s a reasonable offer to make. Maybe you and Artemis can tag team Dick, find out what’s bothering him.

“Nah,” his smile slants a bit more real. “Thanks for the offer though. Maybe once everything’s dried I can help you move everything back in.”

As much as you’d like to push, you like being able to fix the problem _now_ , you hold off. “Sure. Thanks.”

Dick actually walks back to you and ruffles your hair. “No problem, Little Wing, see you at dinner tonight.” He turns right back around and leaves, disappearing into his own bedroom.

You frown at the empty hall. Dick doesn’t usually stay in the Manor much these days, preferring one of the penthouses in Gotham proper to be closer to Babs. And as far as you knew, he and she were supposed to be having a dinner tonight.

“Hey,” Artemis’ voice sounds right behind you. Accompanied by a smack in the ass by her paint roller. “You gonna help me or are you just gonna make yourself look weird?”

Turning around you close the door and give her a playful push. “You’re lucky my roller’s on the other side of the room.” You _will_ be getting your own revenge, it will just be delayed. With a haughty sniff you go back to painting.

“Bring it, Boy Wonder,” the challenge in her voice is unmistakable. “I can take your ass.”

You snort, but hold your tongue, content to wait.

By the time dinner rolls around, you and Artemis managed to paint the walls twice, and each other about once.

-

You don’t get the chance to talk to Dick about it liked you’d planned, but it sort of comes up during patrol the next night...in that the tension between Nightwing and Batgirl, is well, _tense_.

Batman makes that hissing-grunt sound that means he’s annoyed at them, then splits you all up, you paired off with Batgirl and Batman and Nightwing together, Batwoman seeming more than happy that she missed out on the whole pairing off thing.

The two of you settle across the street from the Iceberg Lounge. Penguin opened it last month and Batman’s got everyone checking on it periodically just in case. You’re content to let the silence stand for a while, which does seem to help Batgirl’s mood some. Granted, that might just be because you’re away from Nightwing.

Something _clearly_ happened and you decide to bite the bullet—heh. “What happened?” You’re sure you don’t need to specify more than that.

Batgirl perfectly mimics Batman’s hissing-grunt—there’s a reason she’s a bat and not a bird after all. “We broke up.”

All you can do for a few seconds is blink. Sometimes Dick and Babs argue, but as far as you know they’ve never broken up. Part of you wants to stay far away from it because it’s _relationships_. “What happened?” leaves you anyways. You’re not sure if you want to know so you can try and fix it, or just because you want to be a good...friend? You’ve never really had to think about what yours and Babs’ relationship might be.

“I just…” she sighs and sets down the binoculars—so far there’s just a whole lot of people in swanky clothes, but nothing suspicious. “I do love him, but sometimes it feels like there’s another shoe waiting in the wings more than ready to drop.” Her fingers grip the edge of the building tightly. “I don’t want to say he’s holding back on me, maybe I’m projecting and I’m holding back on _him_.” She snorts. “Either way he proposed to me on New Years Eve.”

“What?” _That_ you sure as hell didn’t know, Dick’s terrible at keeping secrets yet he somehow managed to keep that one from you.

Batgirl plops her chin in her hand. “I told him I needed time to think, he got that kicked puppy look but said alright. A few weeks passed and I kind of got sucked into work and forgot until the other day when he reminded me. I found myself blurting out no and it turned into this big argument and we...broke up.”

You frown at the Lounge. “I’m sorry?” What else can you say to that?

One of her arms wraps around you and gives you a squeeze. “Thanks. Knew that there was a reason you’re my second favorite Robin.” Even as she smiles there’s a sad note to her voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only ten chapters left y'all!


	23. Chapter 23

Your least favorite time of the year finally passes, and the first few signs of spring make themselves known. School picks up some and it’s good for you to have at least one thing that’s easy to deal with.

Things get thrown topsy-turvy again in the beginning of March.

It’s Saturday morning, there’s french toast and bacon and you’d just won the funnies from Dick when he decides to say: “I’ve been thinking of moving to another city.”

The moment of silence is almost painful.

Bruce folds and sets aside his own section of the paper. “Where were you thinking of?”

Part of you wants to insist Dick stay. But you know that even if he leaves, you’ll see him again. You bite the inside of your cheek, doing your best to keep quiet and reminding yourself of that.

“Bludhaven.” Dick’s aware of the tension, but content to ignore it apparently. “I thought it’d be close enough that I could still pop in or you could come over and help if you want. Far enough away that I’d have the city to myself, as it were.”

“I’m not going to try to talk you out of it, but Bludhaven’s dangerous even by Gotham standards. If you’re just wanting to leave Gotham for a while, it’d be less hassle to just stay in Europe for a few months or something.” Bruce sounds far too calm about all of this.

You take a few deep breaths. It’s harder to sneak off when you’re Dick’s height now. Yet you don’t exactly want to stay either.

Dick’s smile is wan. “I know Bruce, but like I said I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Even without the breakup with Babs,” he says, pain flashing across his face, “I’d be having this conversation. It’d just be different. Just, consider this the next step in going out on my own. Batman and Robin and the others have Gotham well in hand. Nightwing striking out on his own won’t disrupt things here too much.”

“It’s not Gotham I’m worried about.”

“I know,” Dick’s smile grows a little. “If it helps, Roy agreed to stay with me for a few months. He’s more chomping at the bit about it than I am.”

Sinking a bit more into your seat you manage to tug out the art and culture section from under business—the funnies have lost all interest. The picture is of Bruce at last night’s charity fundraiser, and only a few steps away is Selina. A surprise, considering it had nothing to do with cats. Scanning the article, you find a smattering of the usual ‘will they won’t they’ gossip and you roll your eyes.

Bruce’s sigh draws you back to the conversation. “If this is what you want, Dick. But be careful.”

“Yes, dad.”

You bury your face in the paper, knowing it won’t be enough to distract you from the emotions rocketing through you.

-

That night you patrol with Artemis for a while. Neither of you talk much, you wanting to try and work through some of this, her getting that because she’s an amazing friend and letting you have the quiet.

With an hour before you’ve got to head back, she buys slurpees and you settle in at the end of a now familiar pier. Her shoulder bumps your arm. “I’m fine with not talking, but I’m also here, yanno.” Her tongue’s neon blue already.

You stick out your own cherry red one. “I know. I’m just…”

“What’s got you all discombobulated anyways?”

“‘Discombobulated’?” You tease. “Been hanging around me too much.” The teasing turns into a sigh. “Dick’s moving to Bludhaven.”

There are a few moments of silence, broken by intentionally loud slurps. “Jesus, though. I’m aces at how not to deal with family leaving you, anyways.”

Weak laughter. “You know me, always coming to the best for advice. I should be heading back, though.” You stand, finishing off your slurpee. “Thanks. I think I need to just brood on it some more.” There’s perhaps some irony in that, everyone always claiming Batman brooded too much.

“I get that. Talk to you soon? Or see you when we head over to the Titans?” Right, that’s in almost a week. After everything that’s happened, it’ll be a welcome break.

“Heading out to the Titans, probably.” You’re ignoring, of course, that you’ll see each other as Jason and Artemis in school in only a few days. “I’ll text you, though.” You flash her a smile. “See you around.” You walk off, throwing away your empty cup before leaping up onto a fire escape and making your way up to the roof.

You’re halfway to your pickup point when you’re joined by Catwoman. She doesn’t say anything, just runs alongside. When you reach the edge of the building you come to a stop, letting your momentum sway you back and forth. “What?” It’s perhaps snappish, but out of all the villains you still don’t know what to make of her. She steals, but Batman’s file clearly states that she takes what she steals back to the countries they actually belong to. Nevermind whatever thing she and Batman have.

Her red lips curl. “Birds like you shouldn’t be alone on nights like this.”

“ _Right._ I don’t know where Batman is,” you huff.

Through her goggles you can see her eyes roll. “Oh I know _that,_ baby bird.” Her tone implies she knows where Batman’s been and you make a face. She gives a light laugh. “Batman’s given you The Talk already I see.”

You roll your eyes right back. “No. I’ve read romance novels, though. I know you two have sex, I just don’t _get_ it.” Honestly you find yourself preferring this conversation to having to try and articulate why Dick leaving makes you so antsy. “You’re technically a criminal, and we usually put people like you behind bars.”

“Sometimes you do things you shouldn’t just because you know you can. It also helps he’s quite attractive, well what I’ve seen of him.” There’s a wistful note in her voice instead of the lascivious one you expected. “Your father’s a very handsome man.”

As if you needed the reminder that you know who she is but she doesn’t know who you are. “He’s not my dad,” it sounds a sullen protest. For all that it’s the truth.

“Must be why he hasn’t given you The Talk.” You’re a bit taken aback by the fact that she’s _teasing_ you. “I guess,” she gives a gusty sigh. “I might as well.” She takes a seat, legs dangling over the side of the roof. She pats the spot next to her. “Don’t worry, Robin, I won’t bite.” Her teeth flash.

You sit. You’ve got a feeling Selina’ll answer any questions you have, no matter how weird they might be. And it’s a chance to get answers from an actual person. Also you’re not foolish enough to try and arrest her on your own. She’s escaped Batman before, you’ll be a piece of cake compared to that. “I didn’t think this is how my life would turn out,” you find yourself confiding.

She laughs, the sort of laugh you find yourself liking. “Oh kid, you and me both. Alright, so I guess I can skip the actual sex part, but relationships are a bit more than sex…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, but it'll be the last one I promise.


	24. Chapter 24

Spring break comes and after so long away it’s great to be back in  Titan’s Tower. So far things have been pretty chill, and it’s almost like a real vacation. It’s a good distraction from your worries back home.

You’re sprawled out on the couch, Artemis and Kaldur ‘pinned’ under your legs, reading on your phone. On the other couch, Gar and Vic sit shoulder to shoulder as they switch on playing God of War. It’s kind of funny to listen to the other backseat game. Kori floats behind them watching.

“After ten years, you’d think I’d understand stuff like this better. Donna said the Greek gods were real, so why would they let something like this be made?” Neither Vic nor Gar seem to notice Kori’s question. Vic’s smashing buttons trying to get his hit meter up.

“Oh, come on!” A gorgon kills him and with an annoyed growl he hands the control over to Gar.

Since no one else seems inclined to answer, you might as well. “Maybe they find it funny, not that I’m gonna put words in their mouths. I mean, it’s not like this is the most accurate of portrayals. Well, Zeus is pretty right, but as long as you make him an asshole with a wandering dick it’s not hard for you to be _wrong_. But Tartarus-”

“Hey Jason,” Artemis cuts you off. You stick your tongue out at her. “Text me.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why?” She’s got that playful-evil grin on her face and it’s got you cautious.

“Cause I want to tell you something, but it only works over text at the moment.” Kori’s expression mirrors your confusion.

You’re going to regret this, but you send off a text anyways, bracing yourself for the possible worst.

A few seconds pass, with only the game and Vic’s complaining of how Gar plays. _“Look at me so white and nerdy. Holy cow I’m white and nerdy.”_ Sings out from Artemis’ phone. She howls with laughter as you glare, falling over onto Kaldur’s shoulder.

“Oooooo, burn!” You decide you don’t want to know if Gar says that in response to Artemis or something that happened in game.

Shifting your legs, you smack her thigh with your heel. “I hate you,” you tell her primly.

Artemis hardly seems bothered, still laughing and wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh my god, I’m keeping that as my text tone now, it’s too perfect.”

Yep, you definitely hate her.

-

Helping Dick pack hurts, but you make yourself do it anyways. Partly in the hopes that you’ll manage to work up the courage to try and talk about it. You might _know_ emotions, but _talking_ about them is a whole other beast. With care, you wrap up all the knick-knacks he’s got spread across his desk and place them into a moving box, making sure each one won’t move around and possibly break.

Dick’s playing an old ABBA record and passably singing along. You’ve decided continuous eye rolls would both strain your eyes and Dick wouldn’t get it on purpose; so why even bother? “Thanks for helping out, Little Wing.” Even with your turmoil, you can’t help but return the bright smile he gives you.

“No problem,” you even manage to sound like yourself. If perhaps a little wooden.

He hip-checks you as he carries the last of his books over to another box. “Maybe you could come stay with Roy and I for a while in the summer. Not that it’ll be much different from Gotham at that point,” he laughs at his own poor joke.

You shrug and focus on packing. Once you’ve gotten the last one settled in you fold in the box flaps and move the box into the growing pile.

Turning around, you start to head back towards the next job, probably taking down all the posters Dick has. Only to be stopped by him, arms grabbing your shoulders and concern in his deep blue eyes. “Hey, you know you can talk to me about whatever, right?” You let yourself be led to the stripped bed, sitting next to him.

“I know,” you agree. “Doesn’t make it _easy_.”

Dick laughs. His arms pull you into a hug. “Bruce isn’t the best role model in that department, is he?” His chin settles on your head and you rest your cheek on his shoulder. “I know you’ve got your parents and sister wherever they are, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re _my_ little brother, you hear? Should probably say it more but I do love you, Jason.”

You breath deeply, smelling Dick’s citrus body wash. “Love you too, Dick.” You’re certain you’ll be happy to finally meet your family, but Dick’s right in that he’s become a brother to you. They might be your family, but leaving the life you’ve built for yourself here will be hard. Guilt joins the party. “I don’t want you to go,” it leaves you in a rush. And you’re glad that your face is in his shoulder, because right now it’s likely as red as your hair and you don’t want him to see that.

Arms squeeze tight around you. “Thanks for telling me, Little Wing.” He kisses the top of your head. “Wish I could help you get through this, but I’m not exactly a trained professional. But I hope you understand I’m not doing this for any other reason than that I want to be more independent.”

There’s an urge to reply, but you get the feeling Dick’s not done speaking so you keep quiet.

“It’s like...everything I’ve been doing is the practice run, making sure I’ve got it all down and ready. Now though, it’s showtime. And after all that practice and hard work, swinging out with the net below me doesn’t quite feel the same. But I know even without the net I’ve still got you all to catch me.”

Even blinking back tears, you can’t help but give a bark of laughter. “Leave it to you to turn it into a circus metaphor.”

He gives you a noogie and with a twist pulls you both onto the bed, trapping you beneath him. “Hey, now. I worked hard on that metaphor. I’ve got a lot to do if I want to catch up with your reading loving ass.” He grins.

A bit more laughter, and some escaped tears. “Thanks,” there’s even a bit of sarcasm.

Dick’s grin fades into something softer. “Pretty sure I should be thanking you for opening up to me. Heaven knows that Bruce won’t ever go to one, but I bet if you asked he’d find a good therapist for you. If you wanted someone else to talk to.” He rolls off you. “Like I said though, you should come visit. Could come get you on the last day of school and you could stay until the 4th. If you think you can stand being away from Gotham that long.” His eyes twinkle.

You give him a shove. “Rude.”

-

A week later you’re helping Dick, along with Bruce, Alfred, and Roy, move into one of the apartments Bruce owns in Bludhaven. Dick’s joke about it being like Gotham isn’t that far off, if Gotham were more into brutalism than gothic and neo-classical. You don’t see the appeal, but Dick’s right that it’s his decision and you’re going to have to accept it.

Roy looks a little gaunt, but you recall Artemis saying Roy’s always been a bit of a mess and chalk it up to being shit at taking care of himself.

After all the boxes have been moved in, there’s Thai takeout and enough of a celebratory attitude that even you get into it some. Afterwards though you, Bruce, and Alfred take off. Fifteen minutes out, you find yourself pulling out your phone and opening your texting app. _Hey_.

Less than a minute later Dick responds. _Hey Little Wing, see, I’m not that far away._

You give a smile. _Thanks_.

 _ <3! _ He texts back.

-

You’ve never really liked it when Bruce goes undercover, but that’s part of the job and you’ve learned to deal with it.

Right now you’re dealing with it by hanging out at Artemis’ apartment—the Manor might be your usual hangout place, but everything there sort of reminds you that Bruce _hasn’t_ been there for a week now and you just needed somewhere different. It might be something of a 180 from the apartment you’d helped Dick move into two weeks ago, but you don’t mind it. There’s something cozy about its smallness.

The both of you are sprawled out on the ratty couch, the TV—maybe Arty’s lust over the TV in the Manor isn’t so surprising—playing old _Hello Megan_ re-runs. You probably shouldn’t be eating popcorn with it being so close to dinner, but you’re sure Alfred’ll forgive you. Anyways, if things keep up the way they have so far you’ll probably stay the night.

“I think I’m going to break up with Kaldur.” It’s only vaguely out of nowhere considering on screen Megan and Conner are bumbling through a relationship in a very 70s way—you can vaguely see the appeal it has to M’gann.

You frown, not sure if it’s at the screen or at Artemis’ words. “Any particular reason?” You ask more because you know she wants you to than any specific interest. There hadn’t seemed to be anything ‘wrong’ with them during spring break. Granted, some relationship stuff can parade around naked and you still wouldn’t notice it.

She shrugs, something you feel more than see. “I still really like him, but I feel like we’ve been drifting apart for a while now...you will say nothing about that pun or I swear to God I’ll hit you with my bow.” She’s lucky her mom’s not home. Ms. Nguyen might no longer be a supervillain, but her opinions about her daughter ‘abusing’ her gear are very strong. “I don’t think me suggesting it’ll be much of a surprise to him. Things haven’t been tense, just...lackluster.”

A sound of commiseration leaves you as you shove more popcorn into your mouth. She snorts and tweaks your ear. “Thanks for the loving support, dude.”

You give that the eye roll it deserves. “Arty,  you’re my best friend and I love you. But relationships are still weird to me.” It’s no surprise the words make you think back to the ‘talk’ Selina’d given you before spring break. While all of it’d been good to know from a practical standpoint, some of it’s stuck with you more than others. Enough that you did a little more research online. “I think...since we’re in a sharing mood.” The playful teasing earns you an elbow to the side. “I think I might be aromantic,” there’s something strange about saying it since you’ve just let it rattle around in your brain for so long now.

The silence that stretches between the two of you doesn’t bother you, more than happy to let Artemis try to work through that. She does eventually speak though. “Don’t think they covered that one in sex-ed. I’m gonna guess it’s got to do with romantic relationships, considering.”

“Gold star,” you poke her in the cheek. She bats away your buttery finger. “It’s lack of romantic attraction. Which would be why I just don’t get it at all. I mean I get _friends_.” You quite like having friends even. “And I mean sex sounds vaguely interesting,” when you’re older. “But the whole boyfriend/girlfriend/partner thing is just... _weird_.” There. You’ve said it. It’s sort of nice to get that off your chest.

Artemis bumps shoulders again. “Thanks for telling me. Also I feel there’s something to be said for you being, like, the most self-aware thirteen year old on what’s got to be the entire planet.”

“Oh,” you reach behind you and grab one of the couch pillow. “Now you’re asking for it.” The popcorn bowl goes flying off her lap as you smack her with the pillow. She shrieks before relatiating with a pillow of her own.

The fun is definitely worth Ms. Nguyen’s later frown of disapproval over the popcorn going everywhere.


	25. Chapter 25

The good thing about ropes and handcuffs—one is fine but both at the same time feels like paranoid overkill—is that they don’t chafe through gloves. The same can’t exactly be said for your ankles, but those can wait until you’ve gotten your hands free.

Around you, yakuza mill around, most of them focused on packing up the arms shipment they’ve just received. Others attempt to guard their fellows, but end up more jumping at shadows. They’ve captured Robin after all, Batman or one of the others can’t be far behind. You’d think they’d be paying more attention to _you_ given that fact, instead of the shadows.

You do your best to hold back your grin as you work your hands free. None of them seemed to even think of the idea that you’d let yourself get caught, that you were what amounted to a Trojan Horse.

...Which all just works in your favor. It might be easier to get out of handcuffs without gloves, but you wouldn’t be Batman’s sidekick if you couldn’t do it. You catch them before they can hit the ground, on the off chance someone might hear them. Giving your fingers a break for the moment, you test the ropes and look around, working out your next move.

In your ear you can hear Batman and Batgirl talking softly, the both of them waiting for your signal. You only need to get the ropes off and hope that Tani—the leader of this particular yakuza—shows her face. Otherwise all the work Batman’d put into this won’t amount to much.

Fingers as ready as they’ll ever be, you start on the ropes. They’re not the heavy duty stuff so it’s easier, marginally. Helps that you’ve got a small serrated blade in your gloves;t takes time but you’re free. New problem, getting your legs free without anyone noticing.

You get your chance when there’s a commotion by the door. Your hands work by touch to cut, wanting to at least get a glimpse of what’s going on. It’s your lucky day, because Tani walks in, her pantsuit crisp and her face unfriendly. Their Japanese is rapid, but you manage to catch most of it. “They’re moving soon,” you whisper into the comm. “Almost free, five minutes or less.” Batgirl and Batman’s chatter dies.

“We’re in position, Robin,” Batman’s calm is soothing.

“Knock ‘em dead kiddo, metaphorically speaking.” You let some of your smile break through at Batgirl’s words.

Footsteps approach and you hurriedly get back into your ‘captured’ position. You’d managed to cut your left leg free, but only got some of the rope on your right. It should be enough. “Robin,” Tani’s accent makes the name sound sharper than it is. “I see Batman’s leaving his work to children these days.”

You stick your tongue out at her. “As long as it gets the job done, amiright?” Waggling your eyebrows doesn’t work all that well under the mask.

One of her goons pistol-whips you. Swishing the blood in your mouth around for a second, you take aim and get Tani’s dun colored Louboutins. “Scared? Although I guess you’re not used to company just dropping in are you?”

Before anyone can get you for the jibe or ruining her shoes, glass shatters above all your heads. While they look up you jump right. The chair topples with you, but the ropes give and you’re free. You roll behind one of the crates of guns as one of the goons has the presence of mind to shoot at you. The shooting cuts out almost as soon as it starts, anyhow.

Grunts and the sounds of flying fists fill the air and after a few more seconds you leap over the crate and join the fray.

-

Back in the cave you let Alfred examine your teeth, although you’ve already checked yourself and none of them feel all that loose. “You should be more careful, Master Jason, you’re not quite out of the clear on school just yet.”

The penlight clicks off and you do a pretty good imitation of Bruce’s ‘I know’ grunt. The bruise on your cheek isn’t pretty, but makeup’ll hide it well enough. “Thanks, Alfred.” Even though you’re sure your teeth still have blood on them, you smile at him. “Anything else?” you call out to Bruce who’s typing away on the computer.

“No,” he answers. His focus still on the screen. “Good work out there tonight.”

As always, a warm feeling grows in your chest at the praise. Hopping off the examination table, you go into the locker room to shower and change clothes. Your bed feels wonderfully welcoming as you sink into it. Sleep claims you quickly even with the dull throb of pain.

-

Tim gnaws on his fingernail as the metro train rattles its way back from Bludhaven to Gotham. So far everything’s been good, but this is the first time he’s ever ventured out of Gotham and he’s half-afraid something might go wrong.

Not that he’s unprepared if something decides to happen on the train, he’s got a pocket knife and his parents agreed to give him aikido lessons as a Christmas present last year.

As it stands, he doesn’t know how often he’ll be able to do this. The more he does it the more he runs the risk of getting caught by the staff. Which is honestly what he’s more worried about than some creep trying something on the metro.

His nail breaks in his mouth and making a face, he spits it out. He moves to fiddling with the buckles on his bag instead of the next finger. If he’s caught today, it’ll mostly be worth it. The shots of Nightwing and Red Arrow were great. He can’t wait to develop them and add them to his collection. Maria’s the only staff on the grounds tonight, so maybe he’ll do it right when he gets home instead of waiting, like usual.

Granted, Maria’s trusting, and he doesn’t want to give her a reason to distrust him.

“Next stop, Gotham East Station.” The automated voice chimes.

Reaching into his front pocket, Tim’s fingers brush his knife before landing on the metro card. As the train slows he stands, and when they open he walks out the doors.

Like all the stations in Gotham, this one’s brightly lit. Fairly empty too, which works for him. He walks to the other side of the platform and taps his foot as he waits for the right metro. Ten minutes. Then another ten and he’ll be across the river, second stop then he’ll be only two blocks from home.

Voices from above draw his attention and he can’t help but smile as he sees Batman and Batgirl running on the rooftops across the street. As much as navigating Bludhaven was a new sort of rush, he doesn’t think he’ll do it all that often. Nightwing might be worth it, but Gotham’ll always be home.

Even though they’re long gone, he waves at where the two of them used to be.

-

With a relieved groan, Artemis falls into the backseat of one of Bruce Wayne’s expensive cars.

“Oh my God,” Jason exclaims as he pushes her towards the far end so he can climb in. “Lazy ass.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “You say that, but just wait until you get into high school in a few months. I’m halfway done and couldn’t be happier.” She probably should start thinking about college, but honestly she’s not sure if she’s even going to bother. Doesn’t see the point besides crippling debt and frat house keggers, neither of which appeal to her.

“I do hope you are not so lazy as to not buckle up, Miss Artemis.” Still weird to be called that, but she’s got to admit the British accent helps.

“Yeah Alfred.” She buckles up. Jason’s already buckled up, and soon they’re headed back to the manor for some well deserved relaxing. “So, excited about Bludhaven? If you want, I can give you all the tips on how to annoy Roy.” She still needs to get back at him some for his unfounded dislike of her.

Jason snorts as he pulls out his phone. “I’m good thanks. And I guess I’m excited. Be sort of weird though.”

“Some best friend,” she sticks her tongue out at him again.

He keeps his focus on his phone, texting one handed while the other flips her off. “Gotta draw the line somewhere, Arty. Mine’s hiding the body and being someone’s instrument of annoyance.”

Having no good way to respond to that, she huffs and crosses her arms, staring out the window. They’re almost to the bridge and she can see glimpses of the ocean through the buildings. Despite the fact they both agreed to the breakup, she finds herself missing Kaldur. The glass feels cool against her forehead as she leans against it.

Jason’s shoulder bumps hers. “Hey, I’ll still be coming back to Gotham on occasion. And after the 4th we’ll have all the hangout time at the Tower we could want.”

“I know. Not about you though, relationship stuff.” It’s strange to think he doesn’t get that, or figuring out how to explain it so he does. Maybe she could have a chat with Dinah the next time she was in Star City, ask for her advice.

“Ah.” His chin comes to rest on her shoulder. “Sorry about that?”

The question in his voice makes her smile. “It’s alright. Regret’s weird.” They’re both quiet as they pass over the bridge, Bristol’s gated green acres opening up before them. A few years ago she’d never thought she’d make it over this bridge for anything but nefarious reasons, so the fact that she can just come over and hang out in Bruce Wayne’s house is still mind boggling.

Who knew her dad would be good for something non-villainous?

She shoves that thought out of her mind as she follows Jason into the kitchen. Dad’s still in prison, hell in prison in Star City, and if she has her way she’ll be the one who puts him back in there the next time he escapes. He’s got no right to be in her thoughts until then.

“Alfred, you’re the best.” Jason’s awe is well deserved considering the veritable mountain of cookies. There will probably be guilt later, but Artemis can live with that. Anyways, running over rooftops, shooting arrows, and dealing with Ollie takes a lot of calories.

She scoops up the tray before Jason can. “They look amazing.” They don’t look to be more than chocolate chip cookies, as well as some chocolate chip oatmeal, but Alfred’s cooking hasn’t let her down yet. “Thank you.”

He smiles at the both of them. “I am glad the both of you appreciate them. It is perhaps best that you consume them elsewhere, however.”

Not needing to be told twice, she whisks the tray away, Jason trailing after. It soon turns into a game of keepaway as they head to the den. The both of them laugh as she does her best not to waste any of the cookies. It takes some quick thinking and even quicker footwork but she manages. She sets the tray on the coffee table with a sound of triumph. “So, what’re we gonna waste our time on this time?”

Jason collapses onto the couch with a grin. “How about something godawful?”

Taking the other side of the couch she easily dislodges him. “Sounds great to me, go get us set up.” She flutters her lashes.

He punches her calf but gets up and fiddles with the TV. The big screen flickering to life and soon being switched over to MST3K. “How’s that?”

“Excellent,” she tells him between bites of cookie.

Rejoining her, he snags his own cookie. As they settle in she finds herself glad of these reminders that she can be as normal as anyone else. But she still wouldn’t stop being a hero for the world.

-

After a week and a half in Bludhaven you’ve discovered that despite it’s love of Brutalism, it’s got some decent parks, as well as a botanical garden that isn’t closed nine months out of twelve—only most of it is Ivy’s fault. It’s been sort of fun to wander around and see what you’ll find.

It’s not as if you’ve got another way to spend the days Dick does work. While it might make sense that Dick got himself a job—even if he doesn’t actually need the money—him on the police force is a wonderful sort of irony. Roy’s usually gone too, although you’ve got no idea how he spends his days. You don’t mind usually, in a way you consider it a trial run for whenever you might live on your own.

In that same vein, even though you’re technically their guest, you find yourself doing quite a bit of cooking dinner. Dick _can_ cook, but he’s only decent at it and is usually too busy with work, and apparently Roy never bothered to learn. You might not mind takeout, but you don’t want it _every_ night.

Nights when the three of you go out on patrol are your favorite, though.

“Is it a Robin thing? Showing off?” Red Arrow’s voice on the comms doesn’t _sound_ annoyed. More...reluctantly accepting.

Nightwing, who’s on the rooftop next to you and practicing one armed handstands, pouts. “You are an awful person. Right, Robin?”

You roll your eyes, legs swinging from the lamp post you’re sitting on. So far tonight the three of you’ve stopped a few muggings and done a drug bust. You’re not sure if it’s because you somehow stand out here more than in Gotham—despite the fact that Bludhaven has far more neon than Gotham probably ever will—but you’ve certainly been shot at more than you’re used to, making this little breather a welcome break. “I have no idea what either of you mean,” you answer primly.

It earns you a snort from Red Arrow, and a groan from Nightwing. “So much for bird solidarity.”

“Ugh, so dramatic Nightwing,” you tease.

On the other side of the street Red Arrow laughs as he sits on one of the crenelations. “He’s got you there, dude.”

Nightwing bounces out of the handstand and makes a face. “Says the guy with a boxing glove arrow. How’s that one working for you?”

“Could try it out now if you want.” Red Arrow reaches behind him into his quiver and pulls out an arrow with a much bulkier head than the other one’s he’s been using tonight. “I’ve been told by GA it’s _very_ satisfying.”

“Aw, crap.” Before Red Arrow can even nock the arrow Nightwing’s leaping from the building, latching onto your lamp post with ease. “Save me, Robin!”

You manage to laugh and sigh at the same time. “Why do I feel like I’m the only adult here?” You ask the moon shining above. She doesn’t respond of course, but Nightwing and Red Arrow’s outbursts are worth it.


	26. Chapter 26

It’s been almost three weeks now and with only about a week until the 4th, you’d decided to make something a little nicer than you usually cooked. Which had required going out shopping. Dick’d offered to go with you, but you’d declined.

As you walk back into the complex, arms full of grocery bags, you almost wish you’d said yes. Dick’s days off are few and far between; on the other hand he deserves some time to just relax. Stepping into the elevator, you nod at Mrs. Rasmussen and her corgi Fivel, knocking the seventh floor button with your elbow. She smiles back, crows feet and laughter lines deepening. “Hello there, dearie.”

Fivel rests his front paws on your knee and barks, probably interested in what you’ve got in the bags. “None of it is for you,” you tell him.

Mrs. Rasmussen tugs him back with the leash. “Now, now Fivel. Leave him alone.”

“Have a good evening Mrs. Rasmussen,” you tell her as she steps off on the fourth floor.

“Thank you dearie, such nice manners.” She hobbles off, Fivel bounding alongside her.

Smiling, you hit the door close button and rest your back against the wall. The chowder’ll only take thirty or so minutes to make, but the biscuits’ll take longer. Which only gives you about an hour before you need to start cooking. Enough time to get some reading done, or maybe play a game with Dick and Roy.

The elevator dings and you step out, making a face as you reach around for your keys. They come out of your pocket without too much hassle thankfully, and you continue down the hall. As you slide the key in, you can hear one of Roy’s Fleetwood Mac records playing. Humming along you step in. “I’m back.”

A decidedly disheveled Dick shoots up from the couch. “Jason!” Your eyes narrow some. “I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon.”

Ignoring the part of you that wants to deal with the groceries now, you take a few more steps towards the couch and peer over the back and yep, there’s Roy, looking vaguely peeved. You level a stare at Dick. “You could’ve just told me instead of sneaking around.”

Granted, maybe you should’ve paid a bit more attention. To be fair to you however, a lot of that stuff just passes you by. Turning around you head for the kitchen to unpack, making sure to put the clams in the fridge first.

“Told you, ow.” Since neither of them can see it, you roll your eyes at Roy’s comment and what must have been a pinch from Dick.

Dick sighs and you can hear him get off the couch and head towards you. “Sorry, Little Wing, I just...didn’t want to offend you.”

Which is sweet, except. “Relationships don’t offend me,” you reply. “If they did, I wouldn’t be able to stand school. I just don’t _get_ them.” Dick’s doing his best to understand since you told him. Although, you didn’t expect something like this.

“No offence, Jason,” Roy contributes, “but you’re weird.”

“Says the archer who used to call himself Speedy,” you shoot back before Dick even has the chance to chastise Roy. Turning your attention back to your big brother—it hurts a little to think that, but the good sort of hurt—you smile. “I appreciate the thought Dick, but I’d prefer it if you just told me.”

“Alright.” Dick returns your smile and pulls you into a tight hug. “I’ll make sure to tell you next time, okay?”

You snort. “Okay. Now.” You twist yourself free of Dick’s hold. “I’ve got about an hour before I need to start the chowder and biscuits. More than enough time to beat the both of you at Guitar Hero.”

“Oh, you’re on, Jason.” Roy’s sitting upright, with a challenge in his eye. “Show you why they used to call me Speedy.”

You return his challenge with an arched eyebrow. “Pretty sure I’d find out the reason better by asking Dick than a game. But whatever floats your boat I guess.”

Roy gives a sputtering laugh while Dick does a decent tomato impression. With a few of your own sniggers you go turn on the TV and Xbox.

-

The hug Artemis gives you after you, Dick, and Roy step onto the Batplane is welcome. The one armed half-hug Batman gives you is unexpected.

You frown at your reflection in the small bathroom as you pin on your wig, frown turning into a grimace when you jab yourself with a bobby pin. By now, you should be flawless at this considering how many times you’ve done it. Sliding the last pin into place you give the wig a few tugs and shifts to make sure it’s on firmly enough.

If your reflection had blue eyes, it’d be a shoe-in for a pale Dick Grayson. Which is part of the point you know, but it’s still a strange thought to have. It lingers in your brain as you apply sunscreen before putting on your sunglasses.

Half-Robin, half-Jason you step out of the bathroom.

Unintentionally, Artemis helps with some of those thoughts when she rolls her eyes. “You look ridiculous.” On her other side, Roy snorts.

“Thanks,” you drawl. Taking your seat again, you see the familiar open field through the windows. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

You’re pretty sure the sighs Dick and Batman give are the exact same and you laugh.

After the plane lands, you and Artemis hurry out, eager to eat and catch up with the Titans. Plates piled high and drinks balanced precariously, the both of you weave through the crowd. You find it easier to chit-chat with the older heroes than before. It helps that they’re like five second conversations before Artemis pulls you away.

The table the Titans claimed this year has a nice huge umbrella shading it and you’ve never been happier. Setting your food and drink down, you manage to say hello to everyone before digging in. Occasionally you join in with the chatter, but you also want to get through your first round of food.

Wally zips in and collapses into the empty space next to Raven. “I swear, this keeps up I’m gonna run out of speedforce or something.”

Raven manages to cover her food with magic before Wally can steal it and narrows her eyes at him. “Get your own food.”

In a blink, he does. Kori smiles as she gets up and hugs her former teammate. “Is your aunt well?”

“Yeah,” Wally answers between bites of burger. “She’s still got a month and a half, but Barry’s freaking out over every little thing and I just…” His phone going off cuts him short. He pulls it out of his pocket and sighs. “Sorry guys, be right back.” In less than a blink, he’s gone.

There’s really nothing more you can do than shake your head and laugh quietly to yourself. Gar and Kaldur join the table, taking up Wally’s spot. “Who the hell took my spot?” Gar wrinkles his nose at the half eaten burger and fries, pushing  them firmly over to your side of the table.

Rolling her eyes, Raven snags the plate back and moves it to an empty spot. “Wally. He’ll be back soon and you two can duke it out or something.”

“I suggest arm wrestling,” Kori chimes in.

“The archery contest starts in five minutes.” M’gann floats at the end of the table, knitting instead of eating. “It might be fun to see how badly they both do.”

Next to you, Artemis starts shoving food into her mouth. “Shit,” she says between bites. Chugging the last of her lemonade she stands. “Shit. Hope I have enough time to sign up still. Crap. You’re all gonna come cheer me on right?”

“Of course, Artemis.” It’s probably best Kori answers before anyone can say no.

Putting her knitting away, M’gann floats over to Artemis. “Come on, I can fly you there faster.” She scoops Artemis up and they’re off.

“What’re we doing now?” Wally’s sitting next to you. He takes his plate back from Raven and finishes it off. When you look back you see it’s full again.

“Artemis is doing the archery competition and she invited us to come and cheer her on.” Kaldur sounds as unruffled as ever and you’re kind of jealous of that.

This time, Wally has the self-control to wait until his mouth is empty of food to talk. “Isn’t that the same one Roy’s in? Gonna be kinda awkward, is all I’m saying.”

You roll your eyes as you stand. “Says you.” Artemis is definitely better than Roy in your book.

-

While Artemis and Roy both make it to the final round, it turns out neither of them win. Diana takes the bragging rights and flimsy little ribbon that is the grand prize. Artemis isn’t exactly broken up about that.

You, M’gann, Kaldur, and Artemis hang around the event area for a while longer. You arbitrarily pick favorites to cheer on for the three-legged race and the water balloon toss. You’re glad things aren’t _too_ awkward between Artemis and Kaldur, and that things feel like the always have.

As the day begins to wind down, everyone starts gathering around again, excitement brewing for the big tug-of-war that happens every year.

“Are you going to enter, M’gann?” She’s technically the only one in their little circle allowed to join, being over twenty.

She doesn’t even look up from her knitting. “No,” she answers. “It’s more fun to watch the competitions than to take part in them, I think.” She’s not exactly wrong. “Uncle J’onn is though, so we should cheer his team on.”

Clark and Diana step out and start picking their team members from the group of participants. Meanwhile Captain Marvel and Donna have carried the giant pool over and are pouring it out to make a nice muddy playing field. Cyborg, Hawkgirl, and John Stewart carry out and uncoil the thick cable that gets used instead of rope.

“We brought ice cream!” Dick sing-songs behind you. Everyone but you starts in surprise, M’gann even ‘eeps.’ You just sigh and turn around. He and all the Titans not taking part in the tug-of-war—you’d seen Kori and Gar already, but from the looks of it Donna and Vic are taking part too—are there behind you.

“Thanks,” you grin at Dick as you take a cone with mint chocolate chip. “Also, you’re a dick.”

It gets the expected groans, but you’re unrepentant as you turn around and settle back in to watch the main event.


	27. Chapter 27

“I hope no one has plans tonight!” M’gann sings out as she and Kori return from grocery shopping.

“Why?” You ask as you, Kaldur, and Raven get up to help unpack.

Kori tosses you the loaves of bread. Catching them, you head towards the pantry. “We thought as a good team experience we could all go to see _The Incredibles_ tonight. M’gann showed me the trailer while we were shopping and it looks quite entertaining.”

Pasta boxes are a bit harder to catch than bread, but you manage. Kaldur’s voice drifts over from the fridge. “What is it about?”

“Superheroes!” M’gann’s enthusiasm makes you smile.

“Superheroes going to see a movie about superheroes feels a little on the nose don’t you think?” Raven sounds more amused by the idea than annoyed. You find yourself snorting in agreement, although it could be fun.

“Why are we talking about superheroes?” Gar vaults over the kitchen counter, almost getting hit in the head by a floating cereal box.

“M’gann and Kori want us to all see _The Incredibles_ ,” you answer. With all the pantry goods put away you take a seat on the counter, Gar soon joining you.

“Yes! Oh my god it looks so good!” In a blink he’s a dog and you huff quietly. “I’ve been waiting for like forever for it to come out.”

It earns him a bright smile from M’gann, clearly glad to have someone feeling as enthusiastic about it as her. She folds up the last grocery bag and puts them all away. “Oh! Where’s Artemis?” She floats up a bit higher, as if Artemis hid herself behind the furniture or something.

“The gym,” you answer. You’re attention’s more on your phone, looking up movie times and ticket prices. Might as well use some of Bruce’s fortune for something fun. Gar’s doggy head lands on your shoulder and you can feel his breath ruffling your wig—always something of an odd sensation. Seven tickets makes a small corner of your mind wince at the price, but you push past it.

“I’ll go get her then!” M’gann zips away.

When she returns she’s carrying Artemis and smiling. “Artemis says she wants to go!”

“Thanks M’gann,” Artemis’ wry tone makes you smile. Your eyes narrow at them for a second. Flicking back through the past few weeks you find yourself ninety percent certain they’re not dating, but maybe you should ask Artemis. Just to be sure.

You turn your attention back to your phone. “Alright. Seven tickets for seven o’clock? Or the five thirty showing?” The theater they always go to serves food so they could have dinner there.

“I have a call with my mother at eight,” Kaldur responds.

Everyone else chimes in that five thirty works for them.

After you order the tickets you find yourself taking a screenshot and sending it to Dick. The team becomes a flurry of activity as everyone prepares for the movie. Your phone buzzes when you’re back in your room. Dick’s sent you a pouting emoji, _jealous! Haven’t gotten the chance to see it yet, and nothing more fun than Titan movie nights._

You send him back the smiling one with its tongue sticking out before putting your phone on do not disturb.

-

“That was more fun than I expected it to be.” Kaldur’s smiling as they step out of the theater.

He’s not the only one actually. Even you’d enjoyed yourself more than you thought you would. Pixar knows how to make a good movie. “Smart of them to put it in the sixties,” you chime in. “Considering the real world lull in supers at that time.” Because you’re the sort of nerd who knows that stuff.

Artemis slings an arm around your shoulder. “Would have liked to have more supers without powers.”

“True,” from Kori. “It was surprisingly realistic however. Edna reminded me that there are many super villains I’d rather face than fashion designers.”

Her words spark a round of laughter.

Raven bumps her shoulder with M’gann’s, breaking her away from her own conversation with Gar. “Thanks for suggesting it.”

Before M’gann can respond screams start up from a few blocks away.

“Really?” You find yourself asking the universe. It gets another round of chuckling.

It all dies away as Kori’s expression grows serious. “Let’s go everyone.”

-

While Jason had come back to Gotham every once in a while while he’d been in Bludhaven, Bruce finds himself relieved to have the boy firmly back in Gotham after a month with the Titans. It’s not as if he’d been worried—well alright, he had some—but like every year around this time the familiar guilt creeps up on him.

His ‘surprise’ present to Jason, a trip to New York, doesn’t help assuage it one bit. It does provide some welcome distraction, Jason ecstatic about all the new museums to visit. The two of them are at the Met today wandering through the various halls. The both of them are quiet for the most part, although occasionally Jason will speak up with some insight or tidbit. He might not have Babs’ eidetic memory, but the breadth of his knowledge is impressive nonetheless. There’s a warm glow of pride at being allowed to experience the past few years with Jason.

Guilt nips at the heels of that pride on the other hand, ever vigilant.

At the gift shop, Jason picks up a book on the impressionists, the Renaissance, and a few art prints. Arms full and face beaming, Jason follows Bruce out. There’s a food truck a block away that serves ice cream and Bruce buys them both scoops, taking a seat on a nearby bench.

“Jay…” Bruce feels a smile tug at his mouth as he watches Jason daintily eat his ice cream while flipping through the Renaissance book.

“Yeah, B?” Jason’s focus is more on the book, but that could change easily Bruce knows.

He opens his mouth ‘I should have told you this years ago…’ it should be easy to say, but the words get caught up in his throat for a change. Perhaps if he could only be Batman it would be easier, except that sort of distance is impossible now. Much like Dick had, Jason’s wormed his way into Bruce’s heart.

Bruce takes a deep breath and plasters a smile on his face, knowing that Jason won’t see how fake it is. “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

-

School is school as always. Except that now that you’re in ninth grade, there’s pressure to get college ready and pick _where_ you want to go. You feel fourteen is far too early to be making those decisions; college sounds interesting but there are far too many choices for majors that interest you. It doesn’t help that you got into the International Baccalaureate program, which pretty much means you’re being challenged for once. Sure, you’re technically too young, but Bruce played fast and loose with the money and you’re one of the best students in school. The AP classes you’d taken in middle school hadn’t been enough of a challenge, and something in you _needs_ that. _Hungers_ for it even, as much as that concept scares you.

Debate’s a good distraction. Despite her protests a few years ago, Monique ended up picking up the torch when Rena graduated last year. She’s picked up the pace somewhat, and you find yourself with less free time than before.

Which makes weekend patrols something of a break, funnily enough.

Tonight you and Batwoman are checking in on Arnold Wesker. It feels like runaround work, especially with rumors going around that Bane’s in town, but you know Batman does his best to make sure those criminals that do reform don’t fall back on old habits.

Everything’s looking normal so far, which is good for both Wesker and Batman. You’re opening your mouth to see if Batwoman wants to call this check in done when you feel your phone vibrate in its pocket. Dick’s voice—Bruce modified the comms to have a wider range—sounds in your ear. “ _Oh my God! They’re so cute!”_

You arch an eyebrow at Batwoman. “What? I’m not _that_ fluent in Nightwing.”

With a sigh you pull your phone out. The lock screen tells you you’ve got an image text from Dick. Opening your phone you see the image and yeah, Dick’s pretty much right. “Babies,” you tell Batwoman, knowing her interest will wane.

“Mmmm,” she lifts her binoculars again and peers through them.

In the picture a very tired looking Iris Allen smiles, a baby wrapped in blue in her arms. Barry standing next to her is grinning like a loon and holding a pink bundle. ‘Welcome Aurora and Don!’ is scrawled on the top of the photo. Closing your phone you put it away. “You think I’d get paid more if I gave up Robin and just started a babysitting service for supers?”

Batwoman snorts. “You get paid to be Robin? Damn, I’m missing out.”

-

The loud thump on her fire escape makes Selina pause. Perhaps in another city she’d investigate. In Gotham she grabs a baton—more practical than her whip at the moment—and continues on with her evening. Mewit stands up on her hind legs, sniffing at the closed curtains of the window. “Anything good?” A smile curls on her lips as she talks to the cat.

Mewit doesn’t answer, but her sister Isis does, trying to convince Selina that they haven’t had dinner yet. She rolls her eyes and nudges the cat out of the way, grabbing the coffee pot.

A tapping sounds at her window. Setting the pot down she tightens her grip on the baton and turns to the window. Mewit turns her head and gives a quiet mewl. “I know, honey.” Using her knee, she pushes her off the window sill and throws her curtains open.

Batman lays sprawled over her fire escape.

Disabling the alarm, she jerks it open and after some struggling she manages to get him inside and on her bed, closing the door behind them. She stares down at him for a few seconds before sighing and sitting next to him. Reaching out she smacks his cheeks, the skin feeling clammy. “Earth to Batman. You there?” She’ll worry about the fact that he came _here_ after she knows he’s alive and not going to die on her anytime soon.

After a few seconds he groans, body shifting. “Se-lina?” He doesn’t sound good either. She adds the fact that he knows her real name to the pile of ‘worry later’. Running a hand through her short blonde hair she shifts closer.

“Why’d you come here handsome? Miss me that much?” Maybe he’s just got the flu, as amusing as the idea is. Batman getting sick, heh. “Where’s the rest of your little family?” She’s seen the news that Nightwing’s left town, but there’s still the rest of them.

“I-vy. Got me. Left side, third pocket.”

All joking falls away and she digs in the right pocket. She pulls out the slim packet and tears into it. A sealed needle and a syringe pop out, as well as two other sealed packets, one green, one purple, and a little plastic tray. Leaving them all on the bedside, she washes her hands in the bathroom and brings out a glass of water just in case.

His breathing’s still ragged, but he seems more aware than he was before. “Good, stay with me.” He’s even stripped off his gloves for her. She gets to drawing his blood and she has to wonder how this is her life now. “Isn’t how I planned on spending my night you know.”

“Closest,” he grunts. “Blood in tray, packet for each.”

She follows his instructions and she gives him the water while they wait for whatever results. “I guess this means you trust me somewhat.” There’s a good feeling in there somewhere.

He doesn’t answer that, his focus apparently on the tray. “Blue,” it sounds like a non-sequitur. When she looks at the tray though she sees that the green packet’s turned his blood blue. “Right side of the belt, second back. Orange packet.”

“Wonderful conversationalist,” she teases. Her fingers work quickly though. The orange packet contains a vial and another syringe and needle. “Any place in particular?”

Batman’s fingers fumble some, pushing up the sleeve of his suit. His hand shifts into a fist and he squeezes a few times to raise the vein. “Here.” Even though she can’t see his eyes, she’s sure they’re narrowed in focus as she injects what’s got to be an antidote of some sort. “Thank you.”

She hums, focusing on cleaning everything up and getting a washcloth to pat his skin. Her fingers move to his cowl. His grip is weak, but insistent around her wrist. “Selina.”

“How long have you known?”

His breathing’s still ragged, but he looks a bit better. “Few years.”

She finds herself laughing. “You really do like me.” He must, if he’s known this long and not done anything more than chase her over rooftops and occasionally foil her thefts. Nevermind the excellent sex. “But how much do you trust me?” Perhaps even more important, considering. “You’ll need to rest, and I’m sure that’ll be more comfortable not in the suit.”

Fingers fall away. “The pattern’s…”

Her laughter interrupts him. “I’ve known for a while,” she admits. “I got bored.” She feels it reflects well on her that she’s known how to take his cowl off and hasn’t done it yet.

It earns her a smile. “Alright.”

They say nothing as her fingers press on the sides of his cowl. First point for five seconds, second for three, third for eight. The faint vibrations under her fingertips die away. She hooks her fingers under the cowl and pull it off.

She doesn't look at his face just yet, though, working on getting the rest of his suit off. This is easier than the cowl, familiarity making for quick work. Only when he’s naked does she look.

Bruce Wayne stares back, bottomless blue eyes as entracing as ever. “Well,” she huffs. “You do know how to keep a woman on her toes.” She’d never in a million years think that Brucie Wayne was Batman. “Nice to meet you.” She leans in and kisses his cheek. “Now I think it’s time for cats _and_ bats to go to sleep.”

“Phone,” he says in response. With a roll of her eyes she digs it out and hands it to him. He sends off a few texts then sets his phone aside.

Standing, she goes to her door and opens it again. Clive and Isis race in and she has to bite back a smile at the pained expression on Bruce’s face as the cats settle in. Sophie follows at a more regal pace. That done, she flicks off the light and climbs into the bed on his other side. Sophie and Isis settle against Selina while Clive seems to enjoy Bruce’s chest.

He gives a long suffering sigh and she feels one of his arms wrap around her.

-

The next morning he’s sitting at her kitchen table, looking a bit like he’s hungover, but otherwise it feels like many other mornings when she’s had a partner spend the night. If accompanied by the vague bemusement of it being Bruce Wayne.

He’s eating raisin bran with almost single minded focus. Selina hides her smile behind her coffee mug, though she’s sure he notices anyways. He has the sense not to say anything though.

An all too polite knock comes from the door. She’s not expecting anyone and arches an eyebrow at him. He grunts at his cereal. “Probably Alfred.”

Doing her best not to shake her head, she gets up and answers the door. It is Alfred, with a bag of what she expects is clothes and toiletries. Next to him is Jason Pond, in a fancy uniform of some sort. “Good morning, Miss Kyle.” Good to know English politeness trumps everything else.

“Hey, Selina.” Jason nods at her before pushing past the both of them. “You look like crap, B.” Selina bites back her smile. Far more blunt than she remembers him being, not quite as cheery as Robin.

The thought makes her pause for a moment. Easy enough to replace Jason’s red hair with Robin’s black in her head. Clever of Bruce to do that, but now that she knows the secret, it’s far easier to connect the dots on the others. If Jason knows that she knows, he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Granted, she’s given him the ‘sex’ talk. Hard to be phased by the other person when that’s happened.

“Morning to you too, Jason. Thought you would have been in school by now.” That explains the uniform.

Jason shrugs and takes a seat next to him. “We were on our way to pick up Arty, Alfred thought it’d be more expedient to do them both at the same time. School doesn't start for another hour yet anyways.” He shrugs.

Another grunt from Bruce.

“Master Jason is correct Master Bruce.” She steps aside to let Alfred in, who sets the bag next to Bruce. “Once you are ready to go we shall pick up Miss Artemis, than after dropping them off you will be headed to WE for your meeting with Lucius.” No rest for Batman it seems.

Taking her own seat back, Selina wonders if her life is going to just be like this now. There are worse things, she supposes. “Maybe it’s a good thing I know you got actual sleep, otherwise I might be worried.”

Jason snorts. Bruce gives him a look, but Jason appears not to notice it.


	28. Chapter 28

No matter how much you enjoy it, school always does sort of meld together after a certain point. The days running together until, before you know it, it’s Thanksgiving break.

The biggest surprise is that Dick arrives a few days earlier than expected. He’s been crying and there’s an urge for you to fix it. “What happened?” The two of you are in his old bedroom curled up on top of the bed. You find yourself looking at both him and the giant blue rabbit Babs got him a year ago.

Dick sighs and buries his face in one of the pillows for a few seconds. You move closer pulling him into a hug. He’s shaky but he hugs you back. “Roy...broke up with me, left Bludhaven too. I…” You hug tighter, already planning to call Artemis and seeing what ideas she might have for making Roy’s life hell for a month or two—maybe you two can plot before the Thanksgiving feast.

“I’m sorry.” Your bond with Dick overwhelms your usual disinterest. He’s your brother after all. “Maybe things’ll be better next time.” It feels like a generic platitude, but you’re not sure you can come up with better.

“Thanks, Little Wing,” Dick sniffles. His face buries itself in your shoulder. “You’re a pretty great brother.”

A wan sort of smile crosses your face.

-

As always, Thanksgiving day itself is a controlled sort of chaos. Now that you’re older, Alfred seems more than happy to pass more cooking onto you—a fact you’re proud of. So you’re not exactly paying attention to who’s coming and going.

Not until Artemis’ clears her throat from the door. “A bird told me I’d find you in here.”

Turning away from the potatoes, you grin. “Arty! Gimme a sec and I’ll be out there.” You know the Kents won’t be making it, but you wonder who else has. Turning back, you drain the potatoes, but leave them in the colander. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you tell Alfred.

“I’m sure I’ll manage without you, Master Jason,” Alfred’s wry tone follows you out.

Artemis slings an arm around your shoulder. “So, I’ve been plotting.” Together you walk towards the living room. From the sounds of it, the TV’s off, which is something of a surprise.

“Good.”

The TV is indeed off. There’s no Kate and Jacob—you remember her mentioning something about army buddies—but Diana’s there, chatting with both Selina and Mrs. Nguyen about a wildlife charity. Dick’s still looking a little wan but he’s talking with Bruce about his precinct down in Bludhaven.

“Hey, kiddo,” Selina slinks away from her conversation and gives you a hug before swanning over to Bruce. You make something like an amused noise.

“Hi to you too, Selina,” you call to her back. “Hi Diana, Mrs. Nguyen.”

Diana ruffles your hair. “Jason. It’s good to see you, I missed you at the barbeque.” She smiles.

“It’s good to see you, Jason,” Mrs. Nguyen wheels by on her way to the snack table.

Artemis huffs. “So, about Roy.” Right, the important things. “I definitely have ideas, but they do require finding him. Any ideas on _that_?”

You shake your head. Dick might have ideas, but you’re not interested in asking him. Too soon. “He’s not in Star City?” You’d thought he’d go right back there, since it’s basically his home.

“Dinah says she hasn’t seen him since his birthday last month. We can still plot though, save it for when he does show up again.” Artemis pulls away and takes a seat on the couch. You flop down next to her. “First idea, we shave his head.”

A snort leaves you, but before you can answer, the doorbell rings. “Put a pin in it,” you tell her as you leap up. “I’ll get it.”

You dash out of the room and to the door. When you open it you see the Commish, Babs, and… “Hi Gordon, Babs. Who’s this?” He’s a few inches taller than Babs, with blond hair and hazel eyes. You guess he’s nice looking, but you have no idea why he’s _here_.

“Hey Jason,” Babs smiles. “This is Mark.”

Eyes narrowed, you look him over again. “Are you dating him? You know Dick’s here right?”

The Commish laughs and Babs sighs. Mark just looks like a confused puppy. Pinching the bridge of her nose and probably thinking of five different ways she can make your life hell during patrol tonight, she answers. “Yes, Jaybird, Mark’s my boyfriend.”

He reaches out, the height suggesting he’s going for your hair, and you swat him away. He accepts it, which is something of a begrudging point in his favor. “Nice to meet you, buddy.”

Pressing your tongue against the back of your teeth to hold back your sigh, you turn around. You can’t exactly stall them at the door any longer without it being suspicious. “Come on, everyone else’s in the living room.”

You manage to get off a quick text to Artemis telling her to try and get Dick either out of the room or distracted, not sure how well either will go in the long run. Everyone turns to the door when you open it of course, and the whole atmosphere shifts just a little when everyone sees the stranger next to Babs.

“Jim! Barbara! How lovely to see the both of you!” Bruce’s face has that slightly vacuous look to it as he approaches. It’s not quite the full ‘Brucie,’ but it’s just about. “Thanks for getting the door, Jason.” You let him ruffle your hair, but begrudgingly. “And who is this?”

“Yeah.” You shrug and dart out of the way before you can get pulled in further.

Dick is by the snack table looking more wan than before. Damn. Artemis’ expression is apologetic. “Sorry. You know I’m shit with good excuses on such short notice.” Yeah, you know. “Also Jesus, Bruce is creepy.”

“Worth a try,” you tell her. Her other comment makes you snort. “According to Dick this isn’t even the complete package.” Your sort of glad you don’t see it considering your disinterest in the galas and events ‘Brucie’ frequents. “Dick says once you’ve seen it a few times you get used to it. Come on, we could probably go hide in the kitchen if you want.” Unless she’s interesting in seeing the possible clusterfuck this might turn into.

“Good idea.”

Together the two of you start walking. Selina, Mrs. Nguyen, and Diana are clumped together again. As you pass them you overhear Selina’s amused tone. “So, which one of us wonderful women is going to save that poor young man from Brucie?”

Mashing potatoes sounds pretty good right now.

-

As has become the sort of tradition, you’ve gone to be with the Titans for the first half of winter break. You’re not planning on doing any Christmas shopping, but you agreed to go out with M’gann, Artemis, and Kaldur.

M’gann pretty much monopolizes Artemis, which you’re fine with considering how much you two hang out in Gotham. Both you and Kaldur hang back some accordingly. “Is this weird for you?” It’s perhaps not the most tactful question, but it’s what comes out of your mouth. It’s accompanied by instant regret. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” It’s been nine months after all, the both of them seem to have moved on.

“That’s appreciated,” Kaldur’s dry sarcasm colors his voice.

You might not get relationships, but you’re feeling some serious second hand embarrassment right now. “Read any good books lately?” You don’t quite blurt it out, but it’s a near thing.

It does spark off an interesting conversation on the other hand—and a mental list of _many_ more books for you to check out. One that eventually does pull in Artemis and M’gann as they finish off their shopping.

The four of you are discussing whether to go out for lunch or head back to the tower when a _football_ hits the ground in front of Artemis and M’gann’s feet, exploding and sending out a cloud of smoke. Civilians cry out in surprise, but the four of you go into high alert. M’gann’s touch brushes the edges of your mind and you let her in. Reaching into your right pocket, you pull out your mask and vocal modifier—Robin rule number 4 after all. Your belt’s in your left, but that can wait a few more seconds. Just as you’ve finished putting both on the smoke’s begun to clear and you can hear something metallic being launched.

Not thinking, you dive towards Kaldur and knock the both of you out of the path. _'Are you two alright?’_ M’gann’s worry is always welcome.

 _‘Yes,’_ Kaldur answers as he helps you up. _‘Anyone have eyes on who it might be?’_

Artemis is staring at the long metal pole. _‘Of all the days to go out freaking_ unarmed _. I hate my life.'_

The last of the smoke drifts away as you yank out your belt, revealing most of the civilians have fled and that there’s a man in dark blue wearing a hockey mask. “ _Oh my fucking God.”_ It takes you a moment to realize Artemis says that instead of thinks it.

You don’t blame her though. Because that’s sure as hell her dad standing there, a hockey stick in one hand and another javelin in the other.

“No, just fucking no! Get the hell out of here before I break your fucking face.” Artemis is practically vibrating with anger and M’gann has a right to look worried. You and Kaldur share a look before inching closer to the two of them.

“That’s my baby girl,” Sportsmaster sounds pleased more than angered by Artemis’ threats. “Don’t worry, I won’t be here long.” His attention shifts to you and Kaldur, which doesn’t bode well. “There’s just a conversation that needs to be had is all.”

He moves to throw his other javelin and you reach into a pouch and pull out smoke bombs, obscuring Sportsmaster’s line of sight. _‘Should we get in touch with the others?’_ You wouldn’t say no to three more people to go up against Sportsmaster with. Your run in with Cheshire almost two years ago hasn’t exactly made you _gunshy_ about dealing with assassins, but you’d rather walk away from them.

 _‘Oh no,’_ Artemis’ words have a faint bitterness to them. _‘We can take this asshole_.’ You hear the sounds of a javelin being pulled out of the ground and hope it’s Artemis’ doing and not Sportsmaster.

 _‘Artemis…’_ You agree with M’gann’s nervousness. There’s not much time to try and talk your best friend out of doing something that might get her killed on the other hand. Smoke’s clearing again and you don’t have anymore smoke bombs.

 _‘Focus.’_ Kaldur narrows his eyes at Sportsmaster. _‘For now our training and trust will have to be enough.’_ His arms begin to glow as he brings out his waterbearers.

Ignoring M’gann and Artemis, Sportsmaster heads right for you and Kaldur again. You toss a birdarang at him, but he knocks it aside with the hockey stick. “Gotta say I don’t usually whale on kids, but consider this an appetizer of what’ll happen if you break my baby girl’s heart.”

Except Sportsmaster, everyone sort of pauses at that. Then Artemis is there, using her own javelin to knock aside the one Sportsmaster holds. “Jesus fuck dad. We broke up _months_ ago. Also my dating life is none of your fucking business.” She attempts to kick him in the balls, but he spins away. Perhaps it’s a good thing Artemis’d said no when you’d asked about her and M’gann.

Behind his mask, his eyes narrow. “Did he break your heart?” Even Kaldur looks bewildered by this whole thing.

It just makes you glad you’re likely not to ever have this problem.

“I’m not even going to answer that, dad. Like I said, it’s none of your fucking business. Get the hell out of here before I change my mind and actually try to hurt you.” Artemis shifts her stance, holding the javelin more like a bo staff, but it’s clear she knows what she’s doing.

Sportsmaster holds his hands up, not really in surrender. “Alright, baby girl. I’ll back off for now, got your sister’s archer to find anyways.” Roy? You’re judging him a little that he broke up with Dick to get with an assassin. “Be keeping an eye on you though, just so I know you’re safe.”

Artemis responds to this by flipping him off. Dropping the javelin she turns on her heel and starts marching back towards the tower. _‘Should we…’_ You’re pretty sure you should follow her, but…

 _‘Yes,’_ Kaldur’s answer spurs the rest of you into action and you trail behind Artemis.

All in all, things probably could’ve gone worse.

-

Three years now and you feel that’s enough points of reference for you to call January officially ‘boring’, nothing else for it. There’s debate sure, but you’re old hat at that now.

Valentine’s is sort of fun, but other than that you find yourself in spring break before you know it. It’s only the first day, but you’ve already decided that this year you’ll stay home instead of going to the Titans.

“Going off comms for a sec,” Dick’s voice fills your ear as you and Batman drop into an alleyway. “Call from Dinah.”

Batman grunts in reply and you hear a faint click. You don’t get much more time to think on it, the muggers taking all your attention.

“B. I...I’ve got to go to Star City ASAP. Can you shoot the jet my way?” Dick sounds shaken up and it shakes _you_ up a bit. Dick’s always so carefree, even after the breakup.

Batman’s eyes narrow, but he’s dealing with the last mugger. The air gets tense while he knocks the man out. “What happened?”

Now Dick’s the one who’s silent, his shaky breath loud in your ear. “Something with Roy.” Something like anger sparks in you, but Dick also sounds so freaked out that anger tangles with worry.

“Be ready for pickup in five. Call me in the morning, understand.” Even the modifier can’t hide all of Bruce’s worry.

“Yeah, dad. Thanks. Nightwing out.”

A heavy gauntlet settles on your shoulder and squeezes. “He’ll be fine.”

-

A few days later you get distracted from worrying about Dick by a surprise visit from Artemis—double surprise since you’d thought she’d be in San Francisco already. You’d heard the knock on the door, but you hadn’t thought it would be anyone interesting. Less than a minute later Alfred’s clearing his throat from the door to the library. You look up from your book to see him and Artemis.

“Hey Jason,” she gives a faint smile. The duffle bag over her shoulders has you wondering what’s up. “Uh, mind if I stay here for a few days?”

Instead of answering you look to Alfred. “I don’t see why that should be a problem, Miss Artemis. Would you prefer a room of your own or should I bring the cot to master Jason’s room?”

“Ah, the cot’ll be fine. Thanks, Alfred.” Her hands twist around the strap of her duffle. Alfred offers a hand but she doesn’t give it up.

Unruffled Alfred turns and leaves you alone.

Shifting, you pat the space next to you on the couch. Unslinging her bag, she collapses next to you. “What’s up?” You’d offer her tea, but she’s never liked it.

“So,” it’s almost more a long drawn out groan than word. “My sister’s back in town. She’s in the apartment, arguing with mom.” Her body tilts until she’s leaning against you. “I decided to high tail it until things start to make sense again.”

“Good luck with that,” you shoot back. She socks you in the shoulder.

Ten minutes later the both of you are in the TV room. _Legends of the Hidden Temple_ plays on screen while the two of you eat pints of ice cream—Neapolitan for you, Americone Dream for her.

You’re curled up next to each other, watching the teams attempt the first challenge. “You know I almost convinced my parents to let me appear on the show. I wanted it so badly I even told dad it would be a good test of my skills.”

“Is that you telling me there’s a certain episode I should look up?” It’d actually be cool to see Artemis on the show.

“No,” she sighs and finishes off her spoonful. “I was a bit _too_ convincing I think. Mom and dad watched the show, after which dad told me I couldn't do it because the prizes were shit.” She shoves another chunk of ice cream in her mouth.

“That sucks.” There’s still a month before her birthday, maybe you could do something about that this year.

“Pretty much,” she agrees. “After this, wanna watch _Animanics_.”

Your response to that is an over dramatic sigh. “If we must.”

Artemis doesn’t even roll her eyes. You pout a little, but honestly she’s just calling your bluff. She knows how much you like the show.

It burns the next two hours and the last of the pints. There’s a steady joke rhythm going between you and Artemis when Alfred clears his throat from the door. “Miss Artemis, I have your sister at the door should you wish to see her.”

Artemis looks torn, and you don’t know what to say. It’s not exactly your place to convince her one way or the other. She chews on her lip and takes a deep sigh. "Fine. I'll talk to her. Probably not going to leave me alone until I do." She pushes herself off the couch and heads to the door.

You watch from the couch, wondering if you should follow or not. The last time you did it hadn't exactly gone well for you—more in the overhearing things you wish you hadn't category. This is Artemis though, and you're worried about her.

"Come on." You start and blink at Artemis, standing by the door. "I'm probably going to tell you either way, so you might as well tag along and save me the trouble." With an invitation like that, how can you resist?

Jade Nguyen doesn't look anything like Cheshire—which you're sure is the point—her black hair pulled back into a tight bun and her hazel eyes sparkling as she loiters in the entryway. "Gotta say sis, when mom told me where you went I almost didn't believe her."

Artemis rolls her eyes. "What do you want, Jade?"

Ignoring the question, Jade winks at you. "Hey, kiddo, promise not to stab you this time."

You do the mature thing and blow a raspberry at her. She laughs, which you guess is the best result you can get.

Her attention shifts back to Artemis, seemingly unbothered by the fact you're here as well. Which you're fine with. "Just wanted to see that you were okay. And to prepare you for the fact that I'll likely be hanging around a while. Hope you can live with that."

Crossing her arms, Artemis glares at her sister. "Why's that? Thought it was every girl for herself?" The words aren't quite spat out. It's a near thing though.

Ignoring her sister's ire, Jade shrugs. "Things change, Artemis." She crosses her arms as well, but to your eyes it's clearly more defensive than out of anger. "You should know better than anyone about that." Her words have Artemis frowning, but she doesn't say anything, content to wait out her sister, which seems a change from the usual. Granted this whole thing's weird, and you're just a bystander.

Jade seems to catch onto this and huffs. "Gotten smarter, I see," warm pride fills her voice. "I heard through the grapevine about dad. Sorry you had to deal with that."

"You had to deal with it too, from what dad implied. Unless you somehow managed to find a truly excellent rock to hide under." You don't know much about their individual skills, but you're certain that Jade'd be good enough to hide if she chose to. "So why come out of it?"

"Oh, dad tried to find me. Took cashing in a few favors, which I'll chew him out about later. We're definitely on the same page that our love lives are none of his business." She shifts, and soon after takes a seat on one of the chairs. There's definitely something going on and she's either going to keep dancing around it or say outright, and you hope for the latter personally. More because if she keeps dancing around it, she'll be here when Bruce gets off work and you'd rather not deal with that clusterfuck unless you absolutely have to.

"This doesn't have anything to do with that." Her shoes scuff the carpet. "Well it has to do with Roy and I, but.." she waves a hand. "Neither here nor there. So, Artemis, how do you feel about being an aunt?"

That's...wow...definitely out of left field from anything else you were expecting. Artemis looks about as taken aback as you are. Which is nice.

"You're _pregnant_?"  You wince a little at how Artemis shouted that. She didn't have to be so loud.

Jade's smile does her moniker proud. "Why yes, I am. It was something of a surprise for me too, if an interesting one. I'll be staying in Gotham until it's born." She shrugs. "After that we'll see how I feel." Her expression darkens. "And we'll see how it goes with the father. Can't say I'm to pleased with him."

You know the general sketch of what happened to Roy—overdose, it'd apparently caught everyone off guard that he'd been using drugs for a while now—and while there's a little voice in you that suggests Jade has no right to judge considering what she does for a living, you also can't exactly begrudge her that.

"I..." Artemis shakes her head. "Jesus. This is definitely one of the more weird days."

You snigger.

Standing, Jade approaches Artemis carefully, but Artemis still looks a little stunned by what's all just happened. "You'll see as little or as much of me as you want, sis." That's almost nice. "I'm just doing what I feel is necessary." It's no surprise to you that she pulls Artemis into a tight hug. What is surprising is that Artemis reciprocates.

"You are an awful sister," Artemis' voice is muffled.

Jade huffs again, pulling away from Artemis she appears to glide back to the door. "See you later, I'm sure! Mom wanted you to know we're doing pho for dinner tonight, if you decide to come back." With a final wave she's out the door again.

Your focus returns to Artemis. She's shaking a little, but otherwise seems alright. "Can...can we just go back to watching _Animaniacs_? I need to just have something distracting enough to think."

"Yeah," you don't push more that, more than happy to give Artemis whatever space she needs.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins...

Summer seems almost too close now. When Artemis'd talked about it, you'd expected high school to be more grueling than it actually is. Granted, you enjoy school, which you're sure isn't the norm. With your classes being on the European schedule, your finals come earlier than everyone else’s, although that doesn't mean school’s over for you.

You did also manage to celebrate Artemis' birthday with the largest inflatable obstacle course Bruce could find. It might not've been _Legends of the Hidden Temple_ , but it had been a lot of fun to get through.

Tonight though, is patrol.

You and Batman are on the trail of Scarecrow—he does seem to enjoy terrorizing the GU campus this time of year—you're watching from the GU clocktower while Batman patrols closer to the ground. You're ready to leap into action at a moment's notice, however. Batman probably wouldn't like to hear that you're eager for a fight, but you kind of are. Fingers tapping restlessly against your binoculars, you wait for any sort of sign.

"Anything?" Batman seems to share some of your anxiousness, which is a bit of a relief.

"Nope," you answer as you pan across the green again. "We sure this wasn't a hoax?" While Scarecrow's been known to go after the school and faculty, there's also a possibility that a student called in this 'threat' in an attempt to get out of a final. Or, to scare a teacher they might not like.

Batman doesn't answer right away, but it doesn't worry you. Not yet at least. "It's a greater probability that it's true than false." What a resounding endorsement. Batman's got to take it seriously though; if he doesn't and something does happen then it's all on him.

You sigh and settle yourself in better, moving from a crouch to sitting on the ledge. Occasionally over the comms you can hear Batgirl as she goes through her own patrol. Batman'd closed off the Bludhaven channel for now—Dick was going back out on patrols again, but needed a little space to work through what'd happened—so no Nightwing, and Kate was out on a date. It does feel a little strange to only be the two of you.

Granted this night's winding up to be about as boring as could be. Legs swinging out in the open air, you keep scanning; never hurts to keep checking.

"Robin." Batman's tone gets your heart kicking.

Tucking away your binoculars you stand. "Yeah?"

"Need you on the Student Union rooftop."

You mark out your path, won't even need your grappling gun for this, before leaping off the clock tower ledge. You pull into a roll like Dick taught you as you hit the first rooftop. The momentum gets you upright and you bound across the roof, over the ledge to the next one. Left instead of straight and it takes a little more effort to climb up to the next roof. A dash across before you're taking a ten foot gap.

You might not be the acrobat Dick is, but you get why he loves it. "Here. Anywhere in particular?" The SU's pretty big.

"South," is the only answer Batman gives.

After orienting yourself correctly, you move to the south side. There's the loading docks for the trucks, and the back entrance for the bookstore. "Don't see anything." Batman wanted you here for a reason though. You keep your eyes and ears peeled. Insect sounds, the expected trees and low shrubs, and a van coming in from the west. "Got an unmarked dark blue van." You tuck yourself under the HVAC, which keeps you hidden enough but doesn't obstruct your own view.

"Do not approach Robin, wait for me."

"I know." You're certain you could take whatever's in the van, though. You do as you're told however, eyes tracking the van as it gets closer and closer. "It's pulling up to the bookstore." It'd almost be funny if these were just unlucky thieves trying to get textbooks instead of Scarecrow. The van idles for a few seconds before the engine turns off. "Scarecrow just stepped out."

You probably shouldn't judge considering your own suit, but you've always thought Scarecrow looked more ridiculous than frightening. Like he stepped out of _Wizard of Oz_ , than, say, some sort of urban legend or horror movie. Not that you'll point that out to his face...yet.

"On my way," it's punctuated by a grunt and you're torn between keeping an eye on Scarecrow and helping Batman.

In the end you stay where you are. Scarecrow's goons step out, going to the back of the van and opening it up. Instead of the usual canisters of gas you've come to associate with Scarecrow, they come out with what looks like canisters of spray pesticide. Doesn't make it any less of of a possible threat, just not the norm.

A fact that has you on high alert. Wouldn't be the first time Scarecrow's changed things up. Which means you've got to be extra careful. Reaching behind you, you dig into a pouch and pull out the gas mask you've got stashed there, just in case.

One of the goons crouches down and gets to work on the lock, another goes around the corner. You creep around to follow them, make sure they're not setting something else up. This goon's only going for the alarm box, blowing a few long strands of hair out of their face in annoyance as they disable the alarm.

Your fingers curl into fists. It'd be easy to jump down, catch them before they could disable the alarm. Ruin all of Scarecrow's plans. Batman wants you up here though. Gritting your teeth, you stay on the roof, slowly making your way back to the HVAC unit. A minute later, the goon that'd left comes back and with a confident stride, Scarecrow opens the door and they all walk in, shouldering the canisters and readying the spray nozzles.

"They're inside Batman, better get here quick." _Now_ you scale down the side of the building. Instead of heading inside you make for the van, putting a tracker on it and getting the tires, as well as cutting the fuel line. Little chance of them getting away now.

As you crawl out from under the van, Batman comes around the far corner. "Robin," there's a faint note of chastisement.

"I didn't go inside, just messed up the van." He can't get _too_ mad at you for that.

He doesn't say anything more, gesturing for you to follow as he approaches the still open doors. You check to make sure your gas mask is firmly in place as you enter the bookstore. There's only a few ambient lights, so it's hard to make out more than dim outlines. The general layout's easy to figure out though, and the strange silhouettes of Scarecrow and his goons make them recognizable, even in the dimness.

"Take them out methodically, save Scarecrow for last. Don't let anything get on you if you can help it."

Instead of speaking you give a tight nod and, keeping low, dart away. Goon one's easy to take down, more focused on spraying down the textbooks and counters. Whatever Scarecrow's cooked up apparently can be absorbed through the skin. Worrying, but not the worst thing he's ever come up with. You double check your zipties before making sure the canister's disconnected from the hose and closed off.

Goon two gets off a shout before you get her across the back of the head. You keep your cursing mental as you get her tied up and secured.

Three voices start calling out to each other—you'd counted about eight when they'd been by the van—better odds than could be. They might be talking, but you and Batman remain silent, working to get the last two before Scarecrow. Your breathing sounds harsher to your ears thanks to the gas mask, makes it harder to hear what's going on right around you. Safety's more important though.

"Gotcha!" One of the last two goons smashes into your side, sending you both crashing into a bookshelf, the force enough to knock it over and send textbooks and reams of paper flying. The good thing about you being beneath the goon is that he takes the brunt of them landing. Not that you’re going to be bruise free.

Ten seconds later you knee him in the groin, his yelp satisfying as you throw him off. For good measure you also sock him across the jaw. He grunts, but unfortunately for you doesn't get knocked out. You're moving to tie him up when he starts moving again, his boot landing in your thigh and sending you toppling. Catching yourself on the other shelf is nice, and it's heavy enough that you can hold onto it as your own legs go flying out, catching him in the gut.

He stumbles, then slips on a world history textbook. His fall path has him landing on the fallen bookshelf, the canister catching the brunt of it and your eyes widen as you hear it crumple. Shit. He stands and swings at you with the spray wand. Rolling out of the way, you manage to spot a tear in the canister, double shit.

Whatever's in the canister seems to be a liquid on the other hand, so it's only running down the canister and landing on the floor. Slippery linoleum'll only make it harder to fight though. Gotta take him down fast, and hard since he seems to be as tough as a brick.

Dancing back a few more steps, your fingers slip into a pocket and you pull out a knockout pellet, good thing for you he's not wearing a gas mask like you are. You toss it at the man's face and it explodes. He starts coughing and a few seconds later he's down for the count. Relieved you tie him up. "Batman?" You whisper it, knowing he'll hear you better through the comms than if you called out.

He doesn't answer, but you hear grunts and sounds of a fight going on in the other section of the bookstore. Grabbing a small can of sealant, you deal with the gash in the canister before ghosting over, putting in a call to the GCPD while you're at it.

You quickly assess the fight. Batman's got it well in hand—it's not as if Scarecrow's one of his more physical rogues—so you're content to hang back and wait for a good opportunity to be a distraction.

It comes a few minutes later. You toss a birdarang between the two of them. Scarecrow starts in surprise and Batman presses the advantage. The other man goes down less than a minute later.

"Robin?" Batman crouches down and secures Scarecrow, the man muttering something about sample sizes and trials. So, his usual tricks then.

"I'm fine," you answer. "I'll have some bruises, but otherwise good. Called GCPD, told them to bring poison control." GU's got a headache on them to figure out how to fix this. Reaching up, you detach your gas mask. The unfiltered air smells a bit of bleach and blood. You make a face, but don't put the mask back on.

Batman gives a quick nod. "You head on back to the Cave, earned it." This catches you off guard for a moment before you remember Selina's back in town.

You huff. "Yeah, B." While it might be fun to see if Artemis' available, you _are_ beat—literally and figuratively—so your bed sounds just about right. "See you later. Comm you when I get in." He'll worry otherwise.

"Take the Batmobile." You grin and give an excited little bounce. While it's got auto-pilot, you're still technically the one in control, it's great.

"Thanks! Have fun," you can be magnanimous about it. Anyways, you like Selina more than you did before. You're also grateful she helped you figure yourself out some. Slipping out of the building, you hear the familiar wail of sirens and smile as you make your way back to the Batmobile.

You have to take your gloves off when you get into the driver's seat; Batman's suit interfaces with the car, but yours doesn't. It'll accept your hand print though. "Take me home."

The car rumbles into life a minute later and takes off. It's a twenty minute drive from GU to the Manor, and you spend most of it staring out the window, watching the city and everyone in it fly by.

For a change the yearning for your parents and sister is a dull ache, one that Gotham eases. Three years is a long time after all. You still know they'll be found, but when they are, you're not sure what you want to happen.

The Cave is nice and cool compared to the lingering city heat. Gratefully you take off your wig and costume, making sure to put both in the 'sanitize' pile. A quick shower and you trot upstairs. The Manor is quiet and still.

On your way to your bedroom you find Alfred asleep in an armchair. Smiling, you find a blanket and cover him with it. You're loathe to wake him up, knowing he'll refuse to go to bed until Bruce's home.

In your room, you run your fingers against the side of your shrine before falling into bed.

-

Like everyone else, you're counting down the last days of school: _four more_.  Also like everyone else, you've gotten the post/pre-finals cold. You only get a few black looks from fellow students when you let off one of your cartoonish sneezes.

The morning of the third to last day of school, you stumble down into the kitchen.

"You look quite the fright, Master Jason." You don't complain when Alfred pours you an extra glass of orange juice.

"Yeah." You sniffle. "Had trouble sleeping last night." You make a face. It's not that nightmares are new to you, but these ones seemed especially bad—not that you can remember what went on in them. Probably for the best. Even though you're not feeling all that hungry, you make yourself eat anyways. Both because Alfred's watching, and because skipping meals means skipping training. "Cold's kicking my ass."

Alfred smiles. "As colds are wont to do. I dare say I've heard Master Dick complain about them often enough." You smile. "I do believe we shall have chicken noodle soup for dinner tonight; the classics are always the best."

"Sounds delicious. Thanks."

"It's nothing, Master Jason. Now finish up your breakfast or we shall be late."

-

It’s the last day of school, and you can't even be bothered to get out of bed. Fumbling fingers push your alarm clock off the bedside table and just barely manage to grab your phone—your room does have an intercom, but you're not sure you can get out of bed to use it. There's a few close calls on dropping it before it's firmly next to you.

The shakes don't help with getting a text out to Bruce and Alfred, but you manage to get it done. With a groan, you roll over and pull your sheets around you, curling up into a tight ball.

A few minutes later, Alfred comes into your room. "Master Jason?"

Your first attempt at speaking's only a groan. The second goes much better. "Don't feel so good Alfred."

He approaches, and you manage to uncurl yourself some, enough to turn and look at him. His worried expression deepens as he sits on the edge. "Do you feel sick?" He rests the back of his hand against your forehead, feels nice.

The question does make you laugh though, because you've been feeling sick for a few days now. "Not gonna throw up." Not yet at least.

Face growing more pinched, Alfred stands. "I shall call GA then, and let them know you will not be attending today, and I shall inform Master Bruce as to your condition." He fusses a little with the sheets, tucking them in around your shoulders and fluffing a pillow you're not using. "I will return shortly with some sencha with honey and lemon.”

All you can give in response is another groan.

You find yourself closing your eyes at the sound of your door shutting and slipping back into a restless sleep.

_Monsters are chasing you. Except that you don't know where they are, what they look like. Worst of all you don't know when they're chasing you. All you can do is run and run. Melody cries somewhere in the distance and you race for her. You've been saving each other for so long that you can't not go to her..._

_It's a hot dark night, when you look out the window all you can see is flat fields and roiling clouds even darker than the sky. Melody's pressed against your side, the both of you watching the storm approaching. As the first flashes of lightning strike down, Mels speaks. "I know mama's voice, she held me in her arms, spoke to me." Her nails bite through your skin. "What do you have, Jason? What did mama ever give you? I'll never be alone, that's what she told me. But you'll always be alone, Jason. Because you can't be saved anymore."_

_Mels' laugh becomes Kavorian's laugh. "Too much like your parents boy. Always sticking your nose where you shouldn't and ignoring your betters." Her nails are too blunt to do much damage, but they do their best anyways. "This is for your own good. We only ever needed one of you anyways. You were just our spare.” Her voice doesn’t shift, but it’s joined by another, more masculine voice. “But now you're even more trouble than that's worth." As the final words are said, Kavorian’s voice dies away, leaving only Bruce’s disinterest._

_They all watch coldly as you break down and cry._

-

Bruce forces himself to breath deeply, tensing and relaxing his body to keep his hands from trembling. His mind's stuck in a loop of 'hurry, hurry, hurry!' and no matter how fast he works it never seems to be enough right now.

After he'd gotten that panicked call from Alfred, he'd rushed home.

Jason'd been hot and clammy, thrashing around from whatever nightmare he was in the throes of, Scarecrow getting a bitter last laugh.

He'd sedated Jason and moved him down to the Cave. Pushing past the unhappiness that'd come from having to restrain Jason, Bruce'd gotten to work on making a cure. It's two days later and Bruce feels he's getting _somewhere_.

Distantly he can hear Dick and Barbara, the both of them trading off on reading to Jason— _Beguilement_ if Bruce recalls correctly. Their voices make soothing white noise as they work together to keep Jason company. Alfred's been alternating between the Cave and the Manor, at the moment Bruce thinks the older man might be polishing the silver spotless. Kate's been helping Alfred make sure Bruce eats—as much as it's valuable time spent away from making Jason better.

Eyes scanning over the DNA code again, Bruce takes another deep breath. What he's got might work. Might isn't good enough for him though, but it's not like there's anyone else in the world he can test the cure on. Jason's DNA is too unique.

It’s this thought that starts up the parade of guilt inside Bruce. All the things he should have said to the boy, things he might not _ever_ get to say if he can’t get Jason better.

Finally admitting his failure of not finding Jason’s family, and his thoughts about why; even if Jason wasn’t happy about it.

The fact that he loved Jason, as much as he loved every other member of his cobbled together family, as broken as they all might be. He knew they could never replace Jason’s actual family, but he’d found himself hoping recently that Jason thought of them all as his family.

Bruce can only hope that his efforts won’t be in vain, that Jason _will_ survive. That he won’t finally lose someone to the Mission—at least when Dick’d walked away he’d known the boy was still _alive_. But even as he hopes that, Bruce has a feeling that his efforts won’t be enough to save Jason. That it’ll be too late by the time Bruce figures it out on his own.

There's something in him that hates what he's about to do, but he does it anyways. He _will_ save Jason, even if it cost him his pride. "Call Ray Palmer."

-

"So let me get this straight," Ray's scanned over the stuff Batman sent him three times and it _still_ boggles him a little. "One of your villains managed to make his own virophage that when it infects another virus makes it pump out what amounts to fear gas?"

There's a second of silence on the other end of the line before Batman answers. "Yes."

Chewing on the end of his stylus for a second, Ray makes a note. "I almost want to meet the guy, the implications of what that means..."

"Ray."

Right, focus. "So it's not a problem with the general cure you're having." Leave it to Batman to whip up a cure in no time, honestly Ray wonders where the man gets the time. "But a problem with a specific person because of their DNA? You know, if you hadn't sent it to me I would've called it bullshit." A t _riple_ helix structure? How was that even possible?

"Dr. Palmer?" Karen's voice breaks through his train of thought. "I've got the results on yesterday's nano trials."

He raises a hand and waves it. "We'll have to get to them when I'm done with this, Karen. Thank you though." Maybe if he...that might work. "I'll try to get something churned out for you ASAP. If it's not too much bother, getting me some of the patient's blood would help immensely, at the very least some white blood cells from them." Figuring out if the antibodies worked differently because of how the DNA was structured or not would be key.

There's a longer silence this time, but Ray can wait it out. Batman's notoriously closed mouthed about anything. The only real reason Ray's not freaking out about the fact Batman came to him for help is because the problem is just too damn interesting. "Superman will bring it over. Batman out."

"You're welcome, Bats," Ray says to the dial tone. Hanging up, Ray stands. "Karen, how do you feel about a real challenge?"

-

_...there's only silence and darkness in the Cave, not even bats to disturb the stillness. "Batman?" Your voice echoes on and on, until it becomes only gibberish answering you. "Bruce? Dick? Alfred? Babs? Artemis?"_

_No one answers._

_Alone, you're alone._

_Your sobs begin to echo, but when they come back to you they sound like laughter. The Cave…_

"Jason?" Bruce's voice is accompanied by warmth on your shoulder. "Can you hear me, Jay?"

It takes forever to open your eyes, but you do it. Above you is only the Cave, though you can't recall how or why you're down here. "B? What?" Your voice sounds ragged and torn. What the hell happened to you?

Even so a strained yelp leaves you when you find yourself being pulled up and into a hug. "You're back!" Dick's cheer and relief make you tremble, in a good way. With your head pressed against Dick's chest and shoulder you can see Bruce, Alfred, Kate, and Artemis all hovering close by as well. Bruce's expression suggests he wants to tell Dick to let you go, but keeps it to himself.

You're grateful for that, because human contact right now feels wonderful. "Hi," is all you manage to get out in response to Dick's outburst. The look you give Bruce however has definite overtones of 'what the hell just happened?'

"Scarecrow's fear virus infected you, you've been out for a few days now." Now that he mentions it, you can feel the faint pinch in your right arm from an IV. You're probably all grody too. Thankfully Dick doesn't seem to care about that. "It's good to have you back." Bruce's hand lands on your shoulder again, giving it a squeeze before he steps away.

Everyone else gives you hugs to, although they're made slightly more difficult by the fact Dick still hasn't let you go. They all do their best. You still feel tired, but can't help but smile as Artemis and Dick get into a little scuffle. It doesn't help to banish the nightmares lingering in the edges of your mind, but it does make them seem less awful than they were before.

Kate and Alfred head on upstairs, Alfred promising to make you his mac and cheese—your stomach gives a dutiful rumble at the thought. Eventually Bruce rouses Dick and Artemis too. "Let's give him a few minutes. How about you shower and dress Jason, and we'll met you in the living room?" With efficient movements, he detaches the IV.

You nod, not quite trusting your voice just yet. The echo of their footsteps linger in the Cave and you take a few deep breaths of chilly air. The bats in the north side of the Cave are cheeping away, so it's got to be daytime—not that you really cared.

Gingerly, you inch to the edge of the bed. Cold seeps into you as you let your feet dangle. You're grateful the bed in the medbay's sturdy, otherwise it and you might've gone sliding when your legs almost give out. After about a minute, your body adjusts to being upright again, muscles protesting out of disuse.

The walk to the showers takes longer than usual, but you try not to be too hard on yourself. Shedding the hospital gown, you step into the hot spray and let out a soft sound of pleasure.

It's only a cursory cleaning at best, but you feel worlds better anyways. The clothes you've got down here might only be sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, but you prefer them over the gown. Body moving more freely, you start to head upstairs when a file catches your eye.

Mainly it’s because it's got your name written in Bruce's tight, cramped, handwriting. As Robin you should probably leave it alone, as Jason you can't help yourself. You don't sit down and start reading it right then and there, but you do give it a cursory skim. Lots of medical talk and long chemical abbreviations. Definitely worth a deeper look.

With care, you tuck it into the waistband of your sweatpants. Thankfully no one will question you going to your room before being social with all of them.

-

It's a day later when you finally get the chance to go through the file in detail, mostly because you haven't exactly been left alone since you woke up. Not that you don't blame everyone, you'd be relieved and a little clingy if any of them had been in your place.

You managed to convince Bruce it was okay to go out on patrol though, and with Dick back in Bludhaven that just leaves you and Alfred in the Manor.

Opening up your laptop, you boot it up and put the file next to it. Opening the file up, you start to look through it in depth, looking up anything you don't know off the top of your head.

In detail it reads pretty typical, save the mention that the general cure didn't work on you like it should have, a problem you've never had before. The stuff Bruce whips up to counteract whatever his rogues might throw at him have always worked for you before. So why was this different?

Continuing, you're surprised to find out he went to Ray Palmer to help. The realization that things must've been worse than you thought sends a shiver down your spine.

The biggest thing that stands out to you in that part is Dr. Palmer's theory that your DNA structure implied that your white blood cells and T-cells function differently from everyone elses. You frown at the file. What the hell did that mean? Your DNA was just like everyone else’s...wasn't it?

While you're pretty sure the printouts came from Dr. Palmer, Bruce's added his own notes. The one that sticks out to you on this page is one where he mentions adding this info to your general file. You've known he's had one on you since you became Robin. It's just how Bruce is. You've never been curious as to what might _be_ in said file until now.

Closing both the folder and your laptop, you take a few deep breaths. Looking up your own file won't exactly be _against_ any of the rules Batman gave you, but it's skirting pretty damn close. Now that you know something's different about you, you find you want to do it.

You've got to return the folder anyways.

Grabbing it, you stand and make your way downstairs. It’s easy enough to avoid Alfred and get the clock open with nary a sound.

The lights around the main areas are already on, so you don't have to fumble for the various switches. Setting the file down where you grabbed it, you take a seat in the chair by the computer. Your hand goes on the scanner and the computer whirs into wakefulness as it scans your hand. "R2, octopus."

The screen flickers to life and there's the usual 'all clear' chime.

Bruce's files are easy to find. He doesn't exactly go out of his way to hide them. You skip over the ones for the Justice League, and his rogues, going straight to the 'Gotham' folder.

The list of files is long enough that you've got to scroll to get to your own file. When you click it you're caught off guard by the fact it's not encrypted or password protected. Whatever Bruce thinks about you, he apparently doesn't mind if you find out, a fact that relaxes you some.

There's a good chunk of blanks at the beginning; facts about your life before you found yourself in that alleyway are spotty at best. There's more as you go on, however.

This includes a good chunk in the middle about your DNA. You stare at the image of it, your brain not quite believing what you're seeing is the truth. How can that be your DNA? You're human...aren't you?

You keep reading, intent on finding the answer. However, it seems Bruce isn't any closer to figuring that out as you are. It's not exactly worrying...it's just...disconcerting. Also reveals how little you actually know about yourself.

At the end of the file there's a note: _See Ponds for more on Amy (mother), Rory, (father) and Melody (sister)._

Your heart leaping into your throat, you go on the search for that file.

It's buried deeper than your own, but when you do find it, you find yourself hesitating on clicking it. Will it really tell you anything more than you already know?

Just like before though, there's an urge to know, the idea that Bruce might be keeping something from you nibbling away at your mind. You trust Bruce—you're his partner, you have to—but did that extend to this?

You click on the file.

Carefully you read each word, like it's a Christmas present you're unwrapping. Physical descriptions are first: your mom and dad's based off the wedding photo, Melody off your own description. What follows next is a long list of attempts to find them, places Bruce has looked, or had other people look. Each item on said list is followed by an all too final _'failed'._

This isn't anything new to you, but there's something about seeing all the lengths Bruce went through for you that is...comforting.

All that comfort disappears when you see the last paragraphs however.

_After exhausting what seems like every avenue I've got to consider what might be the worst. That Amy, Rory, and Melody have not, nor did they ever, exist in this universe. A fact which correlates Jason's own experience before landing in the alley, his explanation of being pushed into something and being enveloped in white light; as well as his eventual confession of being certain a good amount of time had passed between being pushed and ending up in Gotham. As well as the difference in structure of his DNA._

_While the multiverse theory hasn't been concretely proven, at this point I feel it safe to say it does exist, and that Jason comes from one of these other parallel universes._

You're not quite sure how long you stare at those words. It doesn't help that they run circles in your head. Over and over and over. Never existed in this universe, from a parallel universe...never existed, never existed.

The roar of the Batmobile's engine doesn't distract you from those thoughts. It only sharpens the feeling of betrayal growing in you. You trusted Bruce, and he's kept this from you for who knows how long. How could he do that to you? Didn't you deserve to know?

Hope turned bitter joins with the betrayal as you hear Batman's heavy tread. "Jason? You should still be in bed." Bruce sounds like himself, which means he's taken his cowl off. That doesn't change anything, just means he'll have to look you in the eye when he explains himself. Good.

You turn the chair. " _Why?_ " You croak, not because of the vocal strain you'd been dealing with, but because your emotions are growing.

The corner of Bruce's eyes wrinkle as he not-frowns. "What do you mean?" Before you can even start to answer however, his eyes leave you and flick to the screen behind you. Widening in understanding. "Jay, lad. I..."

"How? How could you..." your voice fails you. Body shaking, not from fear but from anger. "They're my family Bruce, I deserved to know." Deserved to know that hoping wouldn't get you anything. All your half thought of plans and dreams useless.

"I should have told you sooner. I just...didn't know how."

"You've never held back before," it comes out a strangled shout. "Why start now?"

Bruce's face pinches. "You were happy Jason, I didn't want to ruin that."

You find yourself shooting to your feet. Your growth spurt's over, but you wish you were taller than Bruce, just for a few minutes. "Fuck being happy, Bruce. I deserved to know," your voice cracks again, emotions running rampant. "You didn't have the right to keep this from me."

"Jason..." Bruce reaches out towards you. It's the final straw. You smack his hand away and run. Bruce's heavy tread follows a few seconds later.

You're faster than he is though, less weight to carry around. You make it to the door and shove it open, taking the few extra seconds to slam it shut behind you before continuing on. You rush past Alfred, his surprised "Master Jason?" following you as you make it to the front door.

The cold night air is bracing and you breathe it in as you keep running.

Scaling the fence is child's play. Out on the street you keep going, making your way towards Gotham proper. Reason starts to catch up to you as you're crossing the Kane bridge. As much as the idea appeals to you, you can't just wander through Gotham all night. You're not exactly interested in nursing a coffee at some 24 hour restaurant either.

Artemis had a date tonight, so you're not too keen on bothering her. Babs was out of town at some Librarian conference, but her apartment might be a good place to hang out anyways. Less likely to be found there. Kate'd just call Bruce, redhead code be damned. Which only leaves one option.

-

Bruce stands in the doorway to the Cave. As much as he'd like to keep chasing after Jason, making sure the boy is safe, it's not what Jason needs right now.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred's voice focuses Bruce like always. "Whatever happened?"

It's not quite strangled laughter that leaves Bruce, but it's a close cousin. "He found out about his family. It didn't go over well." Bruce'll give the boy a few hours before going out and finding him. He should have his wallet on him, the tracker in it all Bruce'd need.

"Ah." Alfred sighs. "I would chastise you over keeping it from him for so long, but I'm as complicit in it as you." The aching sadness in Alfred's voice just makes Bruce feel even guiltier over everything.

Bruce sighs. "We both should've known better." Now all they can do is hope it's all going to work out in the end.

-

You stare into soulful green eyes. “She doesn’t want you, not like I do.” You croon, her eyes closing as your thumb rubs her cheek. It’s better than letting yourself think too much about what Bruce did.

“It’s no use, baby bird,” Catwoman’s voice is full of humor. “Sophia knows who feeds her every night.” She sits next to you on the fire escape.

You look down at the calico cat curled up in your lap. “Say it isn’t so,” you gasp, doing your best to look offended as the cat’s rumbling purr starts up.

Catwoman laughs and ruffles your hair. “You’re alright, kiddo.” You duck your head, pleased. Getting praise from a criminal shouldn’t, but Catwoman’s always been a gray area. Proof enough that she’s spent too much time around Batman her first question is: “so why’re you hanging around here, darkening my window instead of out kicking butt and bringing cheer to the good folks of Gotham?” It makes you wonder if she knows about what happened to you. Or if Bruce kept that close to the chest.

You scoop the cat off your lap and into your arms. She makes a disgruntled sound, but settles against your shoulder and chest a few seconds later. “B was lying to me.”

A gusty sigh leaves Catwoman, and you watch her reach up to pull her fitted hood off her head. Like that, Catwoman is gone and Selina Kyle sits next to you. Not for long though, standing up she goes to her window, traces a gloved hand around the edges of the sill in a deliberate pattern _then_ opens the window itself. “Come on in, kiddo. I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

You and the cat tumble in after her. Despite the sudden movements, the cat seems more displeased that you set her down, twining around your legs and meowing as you close the window and curtains. She gets to be Selina and you get to be Jason for a change. Perhaps coming to her isn't your best idea, but she's helped you before, giving excellent advice even. You at least know she'll listen to everything you've got to say, _and_ she won't call Bruce.

Stepping over the cat, you go to the kitchen island, watching Selina as she pours milk and heavy cream into a glass measuring cup before sticking it in the microwave. “So.” She gets out two mugs and hot chocolate packets. “In the grand scheme of lies is this a ‘Bruce promised to toss the ol’ pigskin but got caught up in work again’ lie or a ‘he’s been tracking your parents’ killer and chose not to bring you in on it’ lie?”

You sit on one of the kitchen chairs as she pours in packets. “It’s a ‘turns out your parents, sister, and yourself never existed in this universe’ lie.”

Her green eyes stare at you in disbelief for a moment. “I see this calls for the hard stuff.” Crouching down she opens a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of Bailey’s. She pours a generous portion in each after she’s stirred in the milk. “Come on kiddo, couch’s better for talking.”

-

Lifting Clive off the back of the couch, Selina grabs the afgan there and covers Jason in it. He barely even twitches. She does give a soft smile as she watches Clive and Sophia climb atop him, Jason so far into sleep he doesn’t even react to having a cat on half his face. Even with the emotional chaos, Selina still takes out her phone and snaps a picture.

Slipping it back into its pouch, she pads into her bedroom, changing out of her suit and into something resembling pajamas. The shirt still smells a bit like Bruce and she gives a sigh. Attempting to distract herself, she gathers up the mugs and takes her time washing them.

Only a matter of time before he gets here. It’s just a question of _who_ he’ll come as.

She’s attempting to read when she hears a familiar pattern being tapped out on her window. Batman waits, patient as ever as she opens it. “Surprised it took you this long to get here.”

“I thought it might be best for him to talk to someone not involved. Privately.” He answers after a long moment’s silence.

With something like a shake of her head she heads back into the kitchen. “While I’m sure Jason appreciated it, _I’m_ not the one he _should_ be talking to. And take off your damn cowl, Bruce.” It’s hard to keep her voice low, but Jason deserves some rest after what happened.

For a change he listens, and those blue eyes cut like they always do. “I want him to come to terms with it first.”

“Oh my God, Bruce,” she throws her hands up. “I love you, and I swear you’re getting better at it. But you need to learn to _talk_ to people, even if it makes you fucking uncomfortable.” Parents might be a thorny subject for him, but that’s no excuse. If they all ganged up on him, maybe they’d be able to get him to an actual therapist before he realized what was happening.

He stares at her and she crosses her arms, nudging Mewit away from them with her foot. “What?”

“You...love me?”

Shit. “Yes. I do. But you know what? Right now, you don’t get to have that. Maybe once you’ve cleared things up with Jason we can sit down and talk about it. For now, it’s not yours to have. He’s your _son,_ Bruce, and you need to apologize.” It hurts some to say that. She hadn’t planned on telling him like this.

“He’s...not my son.” Those eyes of his threaten to drag her into the depths again. Drown her like the ocean. It would be easy to drop the conversation and pull him into her bedroom. Not for sex, just to hold. Maybe she still will, but after he’s gotten it through his thick skull.

“Dick wasn’t your son for a long time either, Bruce. That doesn’t change the fact that _he’s your son_. It might not be formal, but you’re the closest thing to a father Jason’s ever had.” Selina finds herself entertaining the idea that if Bruce doesn’t own up, _she_ will. She’s only ever been a mother to her cats, but she thinks she could manage alright with Jason.

Bruce sags. “I never expected any of this to happen.”

The sigh that leaves her is a fond one. “You can’t plan parenthood, Bruce. If you were expecting Jason to be like Dick, I think we should revoke your ‘world’s greatest detective’ title.”

“I learned that pretty early on.” He gives a wan smile. “After he became Robin it just…” He scrubs a hand over his face.

“Became easier to fall back into old habits? Easier for you to excuse keeping secrets from him because you did the same thing to Dick?” Selina doesn’t consider what she’s saying to be vicious. Bruce has to know it all already, she’s just making it harder for him to ignore. “I won’t say being Robin hasn’t been good to Jason, but that’s no excuse for _you_.”

He steps closer and she almost takes a step back to keep the distance between them. Bruce might not mean to, but let him get too close and that irresistible charm starts to show itself. “You’re right. I just…”

Crossing her arms she look up at him. “No ‘just’s anymore, Bruce. Take Jason home. In the morning _talk_ to him. _Apologize_. Then actually try to do better.” Uncrossing, she gives him a little push. “Go.”

Bruce goes. The care he takes in picking Jason up, covering him with the cape so no one sees him, leaves a hollowness in her chest.


	30. Chapter 30

When you wake up, you ache and you’re certain sometime in the night something came by and scooped up all your insides. As your body asserts that, yes, everything’s all here, you realize you’re back in the Manor. Bruce is sitting in a chair next to your bed, reading _His Majesty’s Dragon_. Despite him knowing you must be awake he doesn’t say anything. You gather your blankets more firmly around you and roll over. There are a few spots on the wall where you weren’t as thorough with your painting and a few pale yellow speckles jump out. You decide it looks like a flock of birds and name the constellation passernine.

The bed dips and a small patch of warmth comes when Bruce reaches out, yet doesn’t quite touch you. Good. “Jason…”

It takes a little work, but you manage to cover most of your head with blankets.

The patch of warmth disappears and you can feel Bruce shift. “Jason, I’m...I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth about your parents a long time ago. There’s no real way I can make that up to you I know, but I hope you’ll at least let me try.”

You bury your face into your blakents to help muffle your crying. You’re not ashamed of it but right now you don’t want _Bruce_ to know you’re crying. “Go ‘way,” you manage to get out. You don’t want him here. He’s been lying to you for years and he thinks a simple apology will make up for that? It’s not hate that you feel for him, but a near thing.

Bruce sighs. "Alright. But we're going to talk later." As if. You don't say anything though, as he stands and walks out of your room. The door closing behind him is almost a final sound.

Fitting you think, your life as you knew it is over in a way. You hadn't exactly run on the hope of finding your parents, but it'd always been a constant presence in your life. The loss of it is as jarring as if they'd truly died.

Your phone rings. Frowning, you unroll yourself and fling your hand out. Fingers wrapping around the case, you pick it up and bring it over. You find yourself making a face when you see that it's Monique. As much as you'd like to ignore the call you answer it. "Hey."

"Jason," you can hear Monique's smile. "I hope this means you're feeling better and we'll be seeing you at today's practice."

Right now going to debate’s the last thing on your mind. "No, won't be there."

"Oh. Are you still sick? The last time I called your dad-"

"He's not my dad!" It's not quite an angry scream, but the ensuing silence on the other end makes you feel a brief pang of guilt for it. "Sorry," you do your best to put your anger aside. Monique doesn't deserve any of it. "Look, Monique." You take a deep breath. "I don't think I can do debate anymore." Everything's gone Topsy-turvy in your life and debate’s more effort than you think you can put in to acting like everything's still normal.

"What?" There's a frown in her voice now. "I'm sorry about calling Mr. Wayne your dad, I forgot. But leaving debate?"

"I just can't right now. Too much shit going on. I hope you can find someone to replace me soon. Bye." You hang up, putting your phone on 'do not disturb,’ just in case.

Pulling yourself upright, the first thing you see when you turn to climb out of bed is your little shrine. Like that, everything comes roaring back full force, anger and bitterness tasting sour in your mouth.

Standing, you strip one of your pillow cases and walk over to the table. Reaching out, you just start shoveling everything in. Cards, flowers, presents, even the porcelain robin goes in. You reach for the picture frame and flip it over. Popping off the back you snatch your first GA report card and add it to the collection.

Reaching out again, you grab the edge of the photograph. Flipping it over you stare, not that you need to. You've long since memorized it. Every fall of fabric, and lock of hair are seared into your mind. Your father's slight awkwardness, your mother's smile. You might have your mother's hair, but everything else about you must be your father's. The way they seem to stare back at you. _We see you, we know you, we'll find you someday_. A child's thought, a child's hope.

Your fingers curl and uncurl as you war with yourself. It would be so easy to throw it in with everything else. Your fingers curl for one last time. Before you can change your mind your spin on your heel and march out of the room.

Once you're in the parlor you set your things next to the fireplace. Kneeling next to them, you get to work.

When fire's at a nice steady burn you pull back some and open the bag. Reaching in, you grab the first thing your fingers touch. You don't even spare it a glance before tossing it in the fire. The postcard curls around the edges before the fire starts to consume it wholeheartedly.

You toss everything in one at a time, watching it burn fully before adding in the next. The would-be Christmas presents and the robin take the longest. You find deep satisfaction in watching the robin crack and shatter under the heat.

Reaching once more into the bag your fingers find nothing but fabric. Dropping the bag you stare at the fire, watching it burn, every story and promise now gone. You don't feel lighter, or better. How could you?

The fire's starting to die down by the time you move again. Pulling your phone out of your pocket you send off a string of texts to Artemis.

_Hey._

_Can you come over?_

_There's something you should know._

-

Artemis blinks, mind trying to process everything Jason's told her.

When he'd said there was something she needed to know, she'd thought it was about the Titans, or patrol plans.

This...this story about alternate universes and Batman keeping secrets never occurred to her. Well, alright, the Batman keeping secrets thing she'd have guessed anyways. That was practically Batman's MO.

Even if her mind's still processing—she knows Jason is telling the truth, it's just a lot to take in—her body moves on its own, pulling Jason into a tight hug. "Jesus."

He gives a strangled laugh as he returns the hug. "Pretty much."

Neither of them say more than that. Eventually though, Artemis is about as good with everything as she's probably going to get. Pulling away from Jason, she gives him a sharp smile. "Excuse me while I go yell at Bruce."

Another laugh. "He's at work," there's bitterness in Jason's tone.

"Oh, that's not going to stop me." Also, really? Wayne thought he could escape this by going to _work_? "I'll march right into whatever board meeting he might be in if I have to. Security won't even know I'm there.”

The smile on Jason's face is fond. "Artemis. I appreciate the idea but...right now I just want a distraction of some sort." He makes a face. "I'm allowed to not want to think about this for a while, and I want that."

Standing she hauls him up as well. "Distraction I can do."

-

Bruce isn't waiting for you like you thought he'd be. You do your best to hold back the sneer you want to make at that—so much for talking later—not wanting Alfred to think you're sneering at him.

"Master Jason, I have tea in the library if you would like it."

Tea and books sound good right now, familiar comforts to surround you as you face reality again. There's a flicker of surprise when Alfred follows, but honestly you won't say no to his company.

He pours the tea with steady hand while you nibble on a chocolate chip oatmeal cookie. He sets your cup next to you, but you're content to wait a few more minutes while it cools.

"I have something I would like to say, and would hope that you do me the service of not saying anything until I have finished. Is that alright?" Alfred's expression is as steady as always, but there's something underneath it that makes you pause.

It’s long enough for your mind to throw out the idea that he's going to apologize for Bruce. The thought makes you angry, but as you pick up your tea you answer, "Alright." Even if you don't like what he might say, this is Alfred. He cares for you just as much as Dick and Artemis do.

"I wish to apologize, not for Master Bruce, but for myself. I've known for as long as he has but foolishly chose to follow his lead in this matter."

 _That_ fact hurts almost as much as finding out in the first place. To keep from saying anything, you drink more tea.

"I have no excuse for my actions, save that I thought Master Bruce would do the right thing. I could give you what ifs and regrets of not having told you myself, but they would do neither of us good. I will say nothing as to what Master Bruce might have thought in keeping this from you, nor make any excuses for him. His faults are his own, and you perhaps are right in hating him for them. Though I can hope that you will both forgive each other in time."

Grabbing another cookie you take a few bites, unsure if Alfred's done or not.

"You are also right at being angry at Master Bruce, and do not let him try to convince you otherwise." You snort. He might try, but you're not going to let that happen. "You also have every right to be angry at me for the same. But I hope that anger will not cause you to push the rest of the family you've made for yourself away. Bruce and I were the only ones who knew." He gives a firm nod and picks up his own tea. "There, I have said my piece."

Even with the anger and bitterness inside you, you find yourself giving a wan smile. "Thank you for telling me, Alfred," is all you can manage on the other hand.

He seems content with that for now however, the two of you enjoying the tea and cookies in silence.

In the end, you can't help but ask the question that's been nagging at you for the past few minutes. "Why didn't _you_ tell me?" You know Alfred didn't want to get into 'what ifs,' but you still want to know the reasons. A part of you points out that if you're willing to listen to Alfred explain himself, then you're going to have to do the same for Bruce, as much as you don't want to. Hearing him out isn't the same as forgiveness, thankfully.

"At first I agreed with Master Bruce in keeping it from you." It stings but you're the one who asked. "You were still adjusting to the world and had suffered through at the very least neglect, if not outright abuse. If we had told you then, you would perhaps not have believed us, and at worse you might have tried to go out on your own."

You open your mouth to protest, although you're not sure which part you'd argue. Alfred continues on before you get the chance however. "After a few months, however, I'm ashamed to admit that I just let myself...forget. It's not the same thing at all, but it was easy for me to equate nonexistence with death. It would not have been the first time Bruce has taken a child in under such circumstances, and I doubt it will be the last."

Drinking your tea, you try to calm your whirling thoughts. "I..." you bite the inside of your lip, not sure of how to continue.

Surprising you, Alfred sets his cup down and moves to kneel in front of you, blue-gray eyes intent. "Perhaps all of this has been more for me than you," he gives a wan smile. "I cannot begin to understand what you feel, but I doubt reasons will do much good against it."

You find yourself giving a wan smile back, as well as a huff of laughter. He's right in a way. "I accept your apology." You can do that; his guilt and remorse are obvious to you. Even if he kept it from you like Bruce did, it’s hard to stay mad at him, as irrational as it is. Your forgiving him might come sooner than Bruce's forgiveness, but you know it's there somewhere.

Alfred's eyes crinkle as he smiles. "At the moment that's all I can ask for, Master Jason." His hand comes out and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

-

"Hey, Jaybird." Babs' voice makes you look up from your book. Her being at the Manor is something of a surprise. What catches you more off guard however is the fact that Dick's standing next to her. "Alfred gave us a call." If you weren't focused on other things that'd make you wonder, as it stands you're grateful that they're here.

Putting your book down, you stand and go over to them, letting the both of them pull you into a tight hug. "Don't let Bruce get away with it easy," Dick murmurs into your hair.

The sentiment wrings a weak laugh out of you. But it reminds you that out of everyone, he knows what you're going through. It makes you somewhat more bitter too, the fact that this isn't the first time Bruce's kept something important from someone he supposedly cares about.

It's perhaps an uncharitable thought, but you're sure he'll do it again at some later point too.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: for mentions of rape, and attempted suicide

You're on your way home after a patrol with Artemis when you spot her.

She's early to mid twenties, long curly black hair, skin only a few shades lighter. Despite the warm weather, she's wearing a coat, clutching it around herself tightly. As you watch her for a few more moments, you realize she's shivering too.

"Batgirl, Batwoman, either of you still up?" You keep up with her easily, even across rooftops. You'll make contact in just a sec, but want backup in place.

"I’m here," Batgirl answers. "What's up, Robin?"

"Got a young woman, I think she might be in shock. Wanted one of you for backup in case she doesn't like me." It might not have been an assault or rape, but you want a woman for backup just in case she reacts badly to you.

"Be at your position in five." Her comm clicks off.

You count out four minutes as you follow the young woman, eyes scanning to make sure no one else has their eye on her too. When you see a flash of yellow across the way you nod towards it as you turn your comm back on, scaling down the side of the next alleyway when you're ready. Stepping out in front of the young woman, you hold your hands out.

"Hi." You give her the most comforting smile you can manage.

Even so she starts and almost trips over herself stumbling backwards. You want to rush to help her but you make yourself stay where you are. Approaching her might only make it worse. She regains her balance and stares at you wide-eyed. "Robin?"

You smile grows a few shades more real. "In the flesh. You alright? Don't look so good." This close, you can see she's not breathing as regularly as she could be. She looks sallow too, but that could be the yellow street lamps that illuminate the both of you. "You already seem to know who I am, but what's your name?" You keep your voice as calm and soothing as you can, not wanting to startle her anymore.

She doesn't answer right away, which is worrying. Her breathing seems to be calming down some, on the other hand. "Me-Melody."

Now you're the one who almost recoils. What a cruel joke on the universe's part. You brick up that thought and the bitterness that follows; it won't do you any good here. "Nice to meet you, Melody." It doesn't escape you that she hasn't answered your other question. "Do you mind if I come a little closer, Melody?"

All you get in response is a shaky nod. You keep your movements nice and slow, stopping a foot or so away. This close you can make out bruises. You force your angry breath out slowly.

"Do you mind if I walk with you Melody? Maybe to the precinct?" It has to be her choice, as much as you might not like it. If you strike out, Batgirl might have a better chance. Now that you've seen the bruises though, you want to make sure she gets to the station—you're pretty sure Montoya still works nights.

Melody’s eyes—iron-brown, you decide—stare at you, something about her suggesting she doesn't quite believe what you're asking.

"Don't worry," a bit of humor creeps in. "Batman's not expecting me back any time soon. We can take as long as you need." Good thing it's summer. "I just want to make sure you're safe and looked after." Even if that means taking her home, as much as you'd prefer the station.

She gives a brief chuckle, which you'll take as a good sign. "I...can we just walk for a little while?"

"Sure," you agree, eyes glancing up.

"Careful, Robin," Batgirl's voice fills your ear. "I'll follow behind just in case." As you turn to walk besides Melody, you give a brief nod.

You let her set the speed and direction, letting her get used to your presence before speaking again. "See any good movies lately?" It's perhaps not the question she's expecting, but you want to avoid what happened to her for now. Once she's in better hands, those questions can be asked.

Again, she doesn't answer right away, but you're fine with that in this case. "The new Harry Potter," she sounds quiet.

"I was disappointed by the werewolf effects, but they did a pretty good job didn't they?" You still prefer the book. "My brother Nightwing took me to go see Mean Girls a while ago. Enjoyed that more than I thought I would."

It gets you a better laugh this time. Your conversation meanders from movies to books, and despite your worry, you find yourself enjoying the conversation. "...I mean how can you _not_ think dragons are cool?" The two of you come to a stop at an intersection, 'Don't walk' blinking at you from across the street. "Where do you want to go, Melody?" So far the only real steering you've done is to keep her on the main streets. Other than that, you've been following her. It's getting towards dawn though, and getting her somewhere safe is sounding better and better.

Her fingers curl into the lapels of her coat, "The..." She looks away from you. "The station. I...I want to make a statement."

You want to give her a hug, but are afraid that might scare her. You settle on a smile instead. "You'll be fine, Melody. Come on, if we're quick we can steal donuts from the break room before they're all gone."

Melody's smile is a bit watery, but she follows you as you make your way to the station. Not even the desk sergeant out front gives you a second look as you usher her inside. Upstairs to the second floor and, you bite back a grin when you see Montoya sitting at her desk. You could do without Bullock being there too, but you can't have it all your way.

"Hey, Detective Montoya," she and Bullock both look  up when you speak up. "I've got a case for you."

Montoya smiles at the two of you. Bullock looks down into his coffee and mutters, "How generous." The grunt that follows, you're pretty sure, is Montoya kicking him.

Looking Melody over, Montoya stands, an odd look flashing across her face. "Garzonas?" Her voice is tight and angry.

Melody's eyes widen and she takes a step back. "How...how did you know?"

Your interest is piqued, but you know better than to just start asking questions. The anger in Montoya vanishes behind the same warm smile you remember from your own first visit here. "How about we go into a room and we'll talk about it, alright?"

Arms hugging herself again Melody nods. "O-okay."

"Wait," you bound up to Melody again. "Montoya'll look after you don't worry, she's pretty cool. I was thinking I could come check up on you on Saturday, though? I'll bring cookies." You hold out your pinky. "What're your favorite kind?"

She doesn't even think before linking her pinky with yours—you'll take it as a win. "Mint chocolate chip," Melody answers softly. "And...I'd like that, Robin. Thanks." She turns as Montoya guides her to one of the private rooms.

You turn to Bullock, who's intently looking at an empty file. "Garzonas?" You're not sure you'll like what you hear or not, but you need to know anyways.

Bullock glares as you as he drinks his coffee. He might hate you and Batman and the others, but he also hate criminals more. "Girl's not the first one, tell you that. Christ, wish we could lock that bastard up with all the other sickos in Arkham-"

"Robin," Batman's voice on the comm cuts through Bullock mid-rant.

You ghost away towards the back of the building. Biting back a smile when you hear Bullock give a confused 'huh?' followed by "fucking spooks."

The Batmobile's waiting for you by the loading docks. Hopping in, you stare out the window watching Gotham begin to wake up, working up the courage to ask your question.

-

"Do you know about Garzonas?" Jason speaks it more to the window than to Bruce, but he can forgive the boy that.

It's perhaps against his better judgement, but there's still a gnawing guilt. Even now after Jason knows. It might not help make up for anything, but it might also make things just that little bit better between them. "I do,” he answers. He keeps his gaze locked firmly ahead. It might be the only way he can tell Jason this. “He’s a serial rapist.”

The words hang heavy in the air. There really is something wrong with him that he'll willingly involve a minor in a case like this. Yet Jason, and Dick before him, have made a difference, and not just to Gotham. Perhaps Jason'll have some different way of thinking about it that'll give Batman a way to catch the bastard.

"So far a dozen women have come forward in the last year, detailed descriptions and DNA testing've all pointed to Garzonas. However, he's the son of a diplomat, so can't be prosecuted unless his home country revokes his immunity." His hand tightens around the wheel as they pull into the cave. These are always the worst cases, where no matter how hard he tries he can't give the victims the justice they deserve.

As the Batmobile cools down, he finally looks at Jason. Who has a thoughtful frown on his face—not the angry one like Bruce feared. "Could...we trick them into doing that?"

Even after everything between them, Bruce can't help but smile at the question. "Possibly," Bruce allows. "It would take a lot of work and planning." Which doesn't mean it's a bad suggestion, just one that won't fix things right away.

Jason climbs out of the car and peels off his mask. "I told Melody I'd go see her in a few days."

"What?" Bruce will admit he's wondering if they're still having the same conversation or not.

"The woman I brought in," Jason's smile is wan and his brown eyes are sad. "Her name's Melody. I told her I'd go see her, bring some cookies." He shrugs. "I never asked if she had anyone close to help her through this so I thought I might as well offer."

Pushing his cowl off, Bruce can't help but feel a brief burst of pride at Jason's actions. It quickly vanishes under the weight of everything they haven't said however. He opens his mouth. They _need_ to fix this. He wants things to be better between them, they can't go back to what they used to be but...Jason is still his... _son_ and he wants things right.

Instead what comes out of his mouth is: "Better talk to Alfred about cookies then, I'm afraid I won't be any help at all."

"Duh," Jason answers as he goes to change.

-

Evening's starting to fall as you make your way towards Melody's apartment building. There's a spark of amusement when you realize she only lives a few streets from Artemis' place—who knows how many times you've passed it on your way to Artemis. So the neighborhood's familiar to you.

With care you scale up the fire escape, mindful of the cookies in your care. Unfortunately for you, Melody doesn't live _on_ the fire escape, she's a few apartments down. Not an impossible challenge, but certainly difficult.

Throwing you off some is the fact you're still in civilian clothes—although wig, mask, and gloves are firmly in place—it had seemed the best of both worlds considering how unusual this is. The rest of your suit's in a duffel bag tucked behind a dumpster, ready to be fetched when you're done here. If push comes to shove you can go to Artemis' before you change to go out on patrol.

Once you've got a decent enough perch on the first of Melody's windows, through the glass you can see the coat you'd seen in her in last time hung up by the door, you knock. Your entry might be unusual, but that doesn't mean you can't be polite. She doesn't 'answer' after a minute so you knock louder, just in case she didn't hear it.

After five minutes of no response you get worried. True the two of you never agreed on a time, but that's why you'd picked right before you'd go out on patrol: it'd seemed more likely that she'd be home.

Pulling your pocket knife out of your jeans, you cut through the screen. If she is alright, you'll apologize and make sure it's all paid for. It’ll fuck up the knife, but you still use it to score the window, just to make things a little easier on you. After inspecting the window for a few seconds you have to do a strange bit of shimmying to get a good angle. Asking for mental forgiveness, you pull your arm back and punch the window.

The impact hurts, and hissing, you shake out your hand. One of Dick's escrima sticks would be great right about now. Biting back a sigh you do it again, this time the glass shattering under the force. Carefully you clear away the glass still in the frame as best you can before stepping in. "Hello?" You call out.

There's no sound of the shower running, or anything else. Putting the cookies on the dining table you continue your search, hoping you haven't missed Melody.

Nothing in the one bedroom, or the closet. There's light coming out from under the bathroom door however. Frowning slightly, you reach out and knock. "Hello? Melody, it's Robin." You're not liking how this is going one bit.

You try the bathroom door, only to find that it's locked. It's a flimsy knob lock on the other hand. It looks like the window's not the only thing you'll be replacing for Melody. Honestly, using your shoulder doesn't hurt as much as punching the window had.

The door gives after the first try, and your heart sinks as your mind figures out what your eyes are seeing.

Melody's laying in the bathtub, still clothed, but there's a bottle of wine and pills next to each other on the rim of the tub. A folded up piece of paper is under the bottle and with shaking hands you tug it loose.

_I'm sorry. I thought I could be strong, but he he came again. Threatened me, and I just couldn't._

_Whoever finds this I hope you can get in touch with Robin, tell him I'm sorry I lied._

The paper falls from your hands. Your whole body's trembling and it's just too much.

The wine and pills hit the ground as you reach out and grab Melody. She's heavy, but her body's still lose—you try not to think about whether that means mortis has already passed or hasn't come yet—so you pull her out of the tub easily.

Dragging her from the bathroom to the bedroom you lay her out. It might be too late, but you have to try. Slipping your comm into your ear you page an ambulance, too.

It's easy to fall into the rhythm of CPR,  going and going until your arms begin to grow tired. You can't stop though, not if it means giving up on her. You push away the thought that this is all useless, that you're far too late to save her, that she's been dead for hours.

You keep trying, because that's who you are.

Finishing another round you check her heart, listening closely. You blink back tears when you hear the faintest of thumps. It's soon followed by the sounds of sirens, but you keep breathing for her, until you can hear the paramedics rushing down the hall.

You leave the way you came and after snatching up your duffel bag you head up to a roof. Leaning against an HVAC unit your legs give out and you sink to the floor. "B?" You hug the duffel tightly.

"Robin," you're still angry at him but the worry in Batman's voice is comforting. "What happened?"

You take a few deep breaths before you can answer. "Melody attempted suicide, I managed to revive her and the paramedics are here, but..." that doesn't mean she'll live, as much as you want it to mean that.

"She...she did it because of Garzonas, he came back." You should have visited her sooner, should've kept an eye on her.

"Robin." Batman's tone is level. "I want you to take the night off, come back to the Cave. I'll deal with this and Garzonas." Except not even Batman can, you know.

Thoughts and ideas whirl through your head as you do your best to calm yourself. "Can I go to Arty's instead? She lives close by." It's a calculated risk; Batman might insist you come back to the Cave even so. But you have to try.

"Fine, but you'll stay the night there. I'll come get you in the morning."

"Thank you." You click your comm off. For a second your legs don't support you. Once they do you take off over the rooftops.

-

Artemis stares at her reflection as Jason curls her hair. While it's not the oddest thing they've ever done together, him wearing his Robin wig makes it...vaguely disconcerting. Although she has the feeling he'd come here not realizing he was still wearing it. It makes it hard for her to think of him as Jason, her friend, and not Robin, whose focus is only this case.

"I have to admit," Jade's voice floats from the door. "I wouldn't have pegged you for the sausage curls type Arty."

Jason rolls his eyes at Artemis through the mirror, and she bites her cheek to keep from sniggering. "They're not gonna look like this when I'm _done,_ I do know what I'm doing here."

Jade shrugs. "If you say so." Without any sort of invitation, she swans into the room and falls onto Artemis' bed, which makes her pregnancy more obvious. "What's the occasion then? You're not usually the type to go all out pretty."

She can see the way Jason's face tightens at that question. "I'm helping Jason with a case," Artemis answers before Jason can. In a way she's glad it's Jade that's 'caught' them and not her mom. Jade won't really care what they're doing, or how. Well, she'll probably care some that Artemis is putting herself in danger.

"Chummy," Jade gets that weird half-smile on her face.

Jason huffs and puts the curling iron down, turning it off before grabbing a brush. "Is there a reason you're here? Or are you just bored?" Honestly Artemis is pleased Jason has no trouble standing up to her sister after what's happened between the two of them.

"Definitely boredom," Jade agrees. "And hard not to be interested when you've both been so hush-hush when you usually are as chatty as chickens."

"Rude," Artemis and Jason chorus.

Jade's expression sharpens. "I do hope you'll be prepared Artemis, whatever it is. I'd hate for Lian to lose her aunt, or all that free babysitting I'm going to get.”

"I'm touched," despite the sarcasm in her voice, Artemis really is. Life with Jade since she moved back in has been both fraught and quite easy. Jade slotted herself back in with little to no problems at all. Mom's been happier than Artemis can remember her being in the past few years—more, Artemis thinks, from the fact that both her children are 'safe' than specifically that Jade is _home_ . Artemis herself has always missed Jade, although she's never let herself show it, remembering the childish hurt she'd felt when Jade left, like Jade was _abandoning her._

"So why aren't you going to be right by her side, bird boy?" Jade's almost cutting question gets Artemis out of her headspace and back into reality. Jason's almost finished with her hair and Artemis is surprised at how pretty it looks.

Jason gives a nonchalant shrug. "I'll be there," his tone isn't anywhere near defensive. "I just can't pass for a girl if I tried, and I have, twice." Artemis remembers one of those two time since it was with the Titans, but she doesn't recall when the second might have been. "Batman decided it wasn't worth bothering about anymore since there's Batgirl, Batwoman, and Nightwing to pick up that slack if need be." Another shrug. "It's just not a skill of mine."

Her sister says nothing about Jason using codenames, the two of them seemingly having agreed to plausible deniability on the whole secret identities thing. Not that that comforts Bruce any, Artemis is sure, if he knows about it at all.

"If she's hurt, I'm coming after you second." Despite the clear threat, Jade's voice is light and airy.

"Wouldn't expect any different," Jason agrees. "Alright, that's hair. Um, if you need help with makeup I could probably do that too, but I'll let you pick out clothes." Artemis holds back her smile.

Jade pushes herself off the bed and gives Jason a shove. "Out, I can do it from here."

Jason goes, taking his duffel bag with him.

"Now," Jade throws open Artemis' closet, flicking through with practiced ease. "Tell me what this’ about, so I know how close to follow you two."

Not sure if she should sigh or smile, Artemis talks.

-

At five months pregnant, this is perhaps not Jade's best idea. On the other hand, she's done far worse to herself when she'd been with the League. Also, it'll be good for Lian.

Anyways it's just going to be a lot of sitting around, eavesdropping—Jade is suitably impressed her sister slipped out an extra earpiece for her—and waiting. Hardly anything exciting at all. It'll at least keep mom from yelling at her later about letting Artemis get into trouble.

She sets herself up two buildings away from Robin. It doesn't give her the best view of the club Artemis is in, but it gives her the advantage of surprise. The boy doesn't know she's here and he needs looking after almost as much as Artemis does. Only her sister would make friends with people who got into messes more than she did.

Jade strops her throwing knives with care—no up close and personal for her these days—as she listens in.

"You good, Art?" She'll give the kid this, he cares for Artemis. "I see Garzonas in the line now, so you've got a few minutes still."

"Yeah," familiar calm laces Artemis' voice. "I'm good." Jade'll have to see about keeping the earpiece for herself—maybe stealing a few more—they cut out background noises very well. They’d be useful if she decided to go back to the League. Right now she was undecided. Thankfully Talia’s agreement still seemed to be in effect; although Jade, even now, had to roll her eyes at the older woman’s insinuations about Lian being a good companion. What a newborn could offer a four year old is beyond Jade.

She did wish hormones didn’t make her so...baby brained as mom had called it. Part of Jade wishes she could speak up as well, to assure Artemis she's here. But that would give it away. Arty knows, it'll have to be enough.

Training takes over, filling Jade with an infinite sort of patience. She picks out Garzonas from Artemis' description and watches. She's made her mark now it's just a matter of waiting him out. She can wait as long as it takes.

Robin and Artemis chatter back and forth for a few more minutes but then Robin falls quiet as Garzonas enters the club. He and she are now caught in the same web of waiting. He's decent at it, but could use some work.

Artemis only checks in every few minutes, although once she's made verbal contact with Garzonas they hear everything.

Jade readies herself. Once they leave things are going to pick up, and she'll need to be quick. Good thing dad's not here, he'd be far to direct. She might respect him, but he was far more blunt than even Robin was. Probably too late for him to learn anything close to subtly. Jade shakes those thoughts off as distractions she doesn't need right now.

"I don't know," Artemis' voice is full of faux-uncertainty. "I should wait for my friends like I promised."

"You can text 'em, can't you?" Garzonas' charm is on a bit thick in Jade's opinion. "Promise it'll be more fun. Haven't you ever wanted to see inside of an embassy?" Jade rolls her eyes. Honestly, you've seen one you've seen them all. Overall, overrated in her book.

A few more minutes of vacillating and cajoling respectively, and Artemis is leaving with Garzonas.

Robin follows, and Jade follows him, as unnoticed as the cat she'd named herself after.

-

Batman...rushes. Calm and distant are the last things he can be right now. Not with Robin...with _Jason_ , disobeying orders. Not when it could so easily end badly.

The Batmobile comes to a screeching halt a few blocks away from the embassy. Batman leaps out of the car, grappling himself up to the roof in only a few seconds. _Hurry, hurry, hurry_ his heart urges. _We can still save him_. Batman doesn't know if he's trying to save Jason, or Garzonas.

He reaches the edge of the rooftop across from the embassy and...his heart stops at the tableaux he sees.

Robin stands on a balcony, hands gripping the railing and face turned down. His attention is on the body of Garzonas, dead as can be on the pavement below. Already a few horrified onlookers are coming out of the brief shock, pulling phones out—whether to call the GCPD or to film, it doesn't matter.

"Robin." He'd kept comms off until now, and that perhaps was the worst decision he could've made. He pushes those second-guesses aside, he can dwell on them later. Right now he needs to deal with this.

Robin's head jerks, and behind the mask Batman's sure the boy's eyes are widening.

"Here, now."

It doesn't surprise him that Robin doesn't fight him on this. And while his focus might be on Robin, he doesn't miss the two dark haired women hurrying away—Artemis looks torn, but her sister doesn't hesitate.

Robin doesn't say anything as he stops by Batman's side. Batman doesn't know what to say himself. He only turns and makes his way back to the Batmobile, Robin following like a ghost.

Still silent, the two of them hop in and Batman drives back the Cave, grateful there's autopilot to make up for his distraction. He grinds his teeth to keep himself from giving Jason the same speech he'd given Dick almost a decade ago. Jason isn't Dick, and it's far too late for that speech now, anyways.

While his silence might be born out of uncertainty, Robin's is part sullen, part shock. Perhaps the worst thing in Bruce's mind is that 'I've killed someone' shock is the same as 'I just saw someone die' shock; leaving him to face a possibility he never wanted to.

Robin, Jason Pond, a killer.

Batman does his best to ignore the million 'what ifs' running through his mind. They're just distractions from his own part in this, reminders that if he'd done things differently, perhaps this wouldn't be happening. But there is no 'not happening', it's _happened_. Now all they can do is work through the aftermath of it. He has to hope it will be enough.

As much as he wants to say something, he keeps his mouth closed, lips pressed tight. Jason's in no condition to hear anything. Whatever Batman might say might also push the boy further away. The whole situation's already in a tailspin, but they can still recover after a fashion.

Even if nothing will ever be the same again. Two drastic changes in two weeks isn't perhaps the best thing for Jason at his age. Which is why Bruce can't help but blame himself. It _is_ his fault, a good chunk of it at least.

Not that that changes the facts of what _Jason's_ done.

As they pull into the Cave, Batman wraps every ounce of cold, calm, indifference he's ever projected around him. He never thought he'd have to use it on Robin.

Jason rips his wigs off, bobby pins flying everywhere, throwing it on the ground. Batman bites back his automatic response and instead holds out his hand. "Phone."

Reaching into his belt, Jason pulls it out, and for a second Bruce thinks the boy's going to just throw it on the ground next to the wig. Jason hands it over. "Anything else?" He bites out.

Batman doesn't pinch the bridge of his nose to try and ward off headaches, no matter how much he might want to. "Shower, then go to your room. You _will_ stay there until I call for you. Understand?" It will give them time for the both of them to cool off.

"Yes, sir," Jason spits out as he tears his mask off, storming away with frustration and anger following in his wake.

Bruce collapses into his chair, staring at the blank computer screen long after he hears the shower turn off and Jason go upstairs. Alfred approaching doesn't quite pull him out of it, but it does make him aware of world around him again. "Dare I ask what happened?" The worry in fear in Alfred's voice just makes everything worse.

Pushing his cowl off, Bruce thumps his head on the back of the chair. "I...I wish I knew Alfred. All I know is what I saw and what happened after. Jason...Jason hasn't even bothered to defend himself." Damning evidence in and of itself. There should have at least been _some_ attempt at protesting his guilt. His head falls into his hands. "Where did I go wrong, Alfred?"

A comforting, warm hand settles on his shoulder. Alfred doesn't answer for a long few minutes on the other hand. "I'm not sure I can say, Master Bruce. Or that you did go wrong. Or that doing anything different would have changed things. All of which are pointless to focus on in the reality of what _is._  I hope when Master Jason does speak, you listen, though you might not like what you hear. But you will need to hear it, if you want to help him."

The words aren't as comforting as the hand, but Bruce knows they're just as important. "Thank you, Alfred."

"Think nothing of it, Master Bruce." Alfred's hand squeezes and lets go. Footsteps echoing in the Cave, he heads back upstairs.

Bruce returns to his staring contest with the computer screen. The bats have returned to the Cave and are softly chittering to each other by the time he moves again. Alfred might be right about listening to Jason, but that doesn't mean he can let the boy get away with what he's done.

-

In the late morning, Bruce knocks on Jason's bedroom door. "My office." He leaves without awaiting a response. He's settled into his chair by the time the door swings open again. Jason's whole body is a sullen slouch as he falls into one of the chairs across from Bruce. Leaning back Bruce steeples his hands in front of his face, bracing for what's to come.

"Until further notice, you are no longer Robin." He might not be wearing the costume, but it's easy enough to put on that cool facade that Batman is known for.

"What?" Jason sits upright, anger clear on his face. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I have, Jason. Not only did you go against orders, but you put Artemis in danger.” Mrs. Nguyen hadn’t been happy to hear about that from him. “Not to mention what happened with Garzonas." Bruce aches, how could he have failed Jason so badly that this happened? The expression that crosses Jason's face doesn't help either, the boy clearly trying to keep himself from saying something that will dig his hole deeper. "Tell me you didn't kill him Jason, tell me you kept to the code."

The only answer Jason gives is sullen silence, for Bruce right now it's as much an admission of guilt as denial. "No Robin until I can trust that you'll follow the mission. That means no patrol, no Titans, and no barbecue." Leaning back in his chair, Bruce steeples his hands. "I've arranged for you to speak with Dinah, as well."

Jason's eyes narrow, although it only adds to his angry expression. "Why?" He sounds dubious and rebellious, not a good combination.

"She's a trained psychologist, and no matter how much I'd like to think I can, I can't fix every problem." In the grand tradition of hindsight Bruce can see what he might have done to make this less worse, but 'would have beens' won't do either of them good. "She will not be reporting everything to me, but I _will_ take her advice under consideration after a few months of sessions." It won't be quick or easy, but Bruce can take it if it means Jason comes to term with himself.

"What if I don't go?" Jason challenges. Pulling his legs up to his chest, Jason wraps his arms around them. Another pang passes through Bruce. It reminds him of when Jason was younger and seemed so much more vulnerable.

Bruce sighs. "You're right that I can't make you go, but you not going will only prolong your punishment. She wants to help Jason, there's no harm in talking to her."

Jason uncurls. "Can I go now? Or is there anything else you want to chew me out over?" Bitterness fills his voice.

"You can go." Bruce would love to talk to Jason about his parents, but he has a feeling anything he says will go in one ear and out the other, anger making Jason deaf to anything Bruce might have to say on the subject.

Jason leaves like he came in, door slamming in his wake. Bruce lets out another sigh and buries his face in his hands.

-

Even with Jason no longer Robin, when Batman goes out on patrol the Manor is almost deathly quiet. As always it makes Alfred worry. Bruce always chides him about staying up late when he should be asleep, but Alfred feels it his right to fret over his son and grandsons as he sees fit.

That, plus the quiet, means he hears a thump and Jason's soft cursing some time around two AM.

It would perhaps be more useful to put the duster down, but Alfred finds himself holding onto it as he steps out of the parlor and into the main hall. "Master Jason?"

Jason is dressed, and hauling a suitcase and duffel bag with him—the producers of the thump Alfred's sure—something like a guilty expression on his face when he spots Alfred. Perhaps he was hoping for a clean getaway. "Leaving us?" Despite the hurt those words bring, Alfred manages to keep his calm about him.

"I just..." Jason wraps his arms around himself. "I need to not be here for a while. I'll come back, I promise. I'll even do fucking therapy," normally Alfred would frown upon the cursing, this is nowhere near normal on the other hand. "I just want to be somewhere else for a while." Slipping off the duffel Jason bridges the gap between them and pulls Alfred into a hug. "I'll keep in touch with you, but please don't tell Bruce where I'm going."

Alfred bites back a sigh, but returns Jason's hug. He should be stopping the boy, because he is a boy, nevermind that Jason _is_ well trained. As much as Alfred would like to think so, but he doubts that Jason's only going to Artemis' apartment, or to Dick's. Not when Jason wants a promise like that from him. "I should be stopping you."

Jason stiffens, but Alfred holds on tighter before Jason has the chance to be pulling away. "I won't, a fact which I may regret in time. All I ask is that you stay safe, and text me every day."

He rubs a hand up and down Jason's back when he feels tears on his shoulder. "Yeah," Jason's smile is watery when he pulls away, but he's not crying. "I can do that. Thanks, Alfred."

Slinging the duffel back over his shoulder, Jason grabs the suitcase and walks out the door. Alone, Alfred finds himself wrapping his arms around himself, hoping that this is the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are ready for the end next week, I certainly am!


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are folks, the end.
> 
> Thanks to Marie for being an amazing editor (this fic wouldn't be half as good as it is w/ out them), and to everyone that reviewed. I always smile when I get that e-mail.
> 
> Now, on w/ the show!

Artemis is waiting for you in the terminal. She socks you on your empty shoulder. "For the record this is a horrible idea, even if you convinced me of it."

Your smile is a bit hollow, yet that doesn't stop the feeling of certainty welling in your chest. Even with Alfred, and now her, protests this feels right: a month or so out of the country where all you've got to listen to is yourself. It’ll be a chance to come to terms with this anger and frustration and everything that you've done.

She cracks a yawn as she reaches into the messenger bag she's got. An answering yawn rises up in you, but you fight it off. You can sleep when the plane's taken off. While there might be a possibility of the plane turning back, liftoff means it's less likely Bruce'll manage to stop you. "Not sure why you need this." She shoves a bottle of bug repellent into your hands.

"All part of the cover," you answer. You spray just a little on your neck and wrist. "Thanks." You hand it back. Rummaging through your duffel—fingers brushing familiar kevlar laced fabric—you pull out the floppy brimmed hat. "How do I look?"

The question earns you a roll of her eyes. "Weird, but when is that anything new?" The hug she pulls you in for is almost spine cracking. "I want like a million texts and postcards, asshole."

It's easier to hold back your tears with Artemis than it had been with Alfred. "I will," you promise. You squeeze tighter for just a second before letting her go. "I've got to go check in, I'll text you when I land." It's a risk taking your own phone, but you're pretty sure you've removed all of the tracking software and hardware that's on it.

"See you on the flip side." Artemis manages to pull you back in for another brief hug before leaving.

Your heart's pounding in your chest. You take a few deep breaths to calm it down before heading to the airline counter. The first real test of your cover.

You make small talk with the man behind the counter, making sure to yawn a few times throughout, sell the story that you've just finished helping out at a summer camp and are now headed off to meet your family in Europe. He hands you your ticket and luggage tags with a rote "enjoy your flight.” You smile back and go to the right gate.

There’s one hour before your flight leaves.

You try to distract yourself with music, then TV, then NPR. None of them work all that well, but they do eat up some time. The terminal's pretty empty; not many people take 4 AM flights, but there are enough that you start picking out clues from habit. A few business men, a family with a two year old—currently fast asleep, but you're glad you've got noise canceling headphones—another couple who look like they've had the same impulsive trip idea you did.

You're counting the chairs in the terminal by the time the attendant calls out boarding. While you're used to the room and freedom of private jets, business class isn't awful. Your heart starts picking up again as you put your duffel into the overhead—your suitcase is in the cargo hold, but you refuse to let the duffel out of your sight—and your knee begins to bounce when you sit.

It's not quite relief you feel when the flight attendants start giving the safety talk, your knee does stop bouncing when you feel the airplane start up on the other hand. Commercial flight take-off isn't at all what you're used to, and there's something exciting about that moment when the plane first rises from the tarmac and goes up.

The 'please buckle your seatbelts' light goes off and you slip your headphones on. You start playing Sigur Ros a few minutes later. Despite your mix of excitement and anxiety it's enough to lull you into sleep.

-

When you wake up, the plane's still in flight. Looking out the window, you see land instead of ocean however, and the screen on the wall proclaims you're about thirty minutes from Warsaw.

You made it.

Staring back out the window, you watch Europe zip past underneath you, and the last vestiges of anxiety fade away as excitement takes over. There is a pang of guilt over how hurt everyone will be—those that don't know anyways—but you do your best not to second guess yourself. Though, something about the rightness of this choice still feels weird to you.

The plane starts to descend and you put away your phone and headphones before buckling up. Passing through the layer of clouds is fun, although despite them it's quite sunny in Warsaw as you touch down. The jolt of gravity reasserting itself is something you're used to, and in economy class you can hear that two year old start to fuss.

Thankfully, unloading doesn't take long. While you wait for you baggage, you text Artemis and Alfred to let them know you arrived safely. You get a response from Alfred right away: _thank you._ Artemis doesn't respond at all, but you don't let that bother you. Once you've got your suitcase, you haul it over to another terminal and dig out the small pair of scissors you brought.

You make quick work of chopping up the fake ID you'd taken, and altered, from Dick. You were only going to use it for this flight, so better not to be carrying it around and having questions asked. That done, you head outside and hail a taxi. You give him the name of your hotel and sit back and watch as Warsaw presents itself.

There are centuries of history piled all next to each other, and for the next few days it's all yours to explore.

The only question is: where do you go first?

-

In the end, art and history win out, and you glut yourself on both. It's not quite the whirlwind tour of museums and parks you'd done in DC, but it's a close second. You do find yourself still turning every once in a while to spout off some little fact about what you're looking at; only to remember you're here alone.

As evening begins to fall, you buy yourself dinner from a street vendor and sit in a nearby park. Your eyes scan the skyline as it lights up, plotting a good run for later tonight.

Perhaps it's not your smartest idea, taking the Robin suit with you, but as long as you're sneaky and don't show off, people shouldn't talk _too_ much. You'll only be here a few days anyways before making your way west to Berlin.

Full, you walk back to your hotel, in the hopes of getting _some_ rest before going out tonight.

-

Warsaw at night isn't perhaps as exhilarating as Gotham, but you've got to admit there's a challenge to this city that Gotham's never given you.

You tuck into a roll as you clear a jump, the momentum getting you all the way upright. Instead of bounding across this roof as you have others you make your way to the edge, staring down at the street below. Even from here, you feel the thumping base of the club across the way. You sit for a while and watch, people coming and going, laughing and appearing to not have a care in the world.

You wish you could be the same.

A few minutes later a gaggle of young women stumble out, and even from here you can tell they’re intoxicated, bubbling giggles and leaning against each other to stay upright.

You follow them, making sure no one with more...cruel ideas is following. Your hands curl into fists. The wash of anger that fills you doesn’t make you see red, but it puts your head back in a space you’d rather not be in again. Breathing deeply, you do your best to push it back. You’re certain when you get back home and start therapy Dinah’s going to want to talk about what happened, but you’re not sure you can. Oh, you remember everything vividly, but you’re not sure you can _talk_ about it.

What happened was too personal, too much of what you’re sure Batman won’t approve of.

Drunken laughter is a welcome distraction. Looking down again, you see the women hail a cab a few blocks away and you let them leave in peace.

Afterwards, you find yourself looking for more clubs and bars though. You shadow the women who leave and make sure they're as safe as you can make them. You only have to step in twice, both would-be attackers getting dislocated shoulders for their troubles. There's an urge to do more, but both times you leave before it can grow too strong.

As dawn begins to creep in, you head back to your hotel room, eager for a few hours rest before you join the rest of the bustling crowds. As you slip into sleep, there's a warm glow of pride. You did good tonight.

-

You find you love Warsaw more than you thought you would, but in the end you have to leave.

The train ride from Warsaw to Berlin is lovely though, watching cities, towns, and forests rush by. It makes you glad you decided to travel this way, it lets you see things you wouldn't ever be able to by plane.

Berlin is even more crowded than Warsaw was, tourists of all sorts surrounding you in the museums and memorials. Even as you enjoy the museums, you find notes of somberness here, too. Greater horrors are remembered here than have ever happened in Gotham, but the feel of it is familiar to you.

A pang of homesickness rushes through you, and before you're really aware of it you've spirited yourself away to an unused corner of the park you're in to cry that out.

For better or worse it seems, Gotham is home to you. You just wish you knew how to feel about that.

-

As much as you wanted to go to Rome, feel those millennia of history all around you, there's too much of a possibility of things going wrong there. There are too many people with cameras who might catch Robin, or even Jason Pond, for your liking.

Instead you go to Florence. There’s almost as much history, with just as much art. You'll have to go to Rome at some point to be sure, but you feel Florence is more charming than Rome could possibly ever be anyways.

Overall, you do more here as Jason than Robin, but you're fine with that. You’re more than happy to just be one of thousands of tourists passing through. You perhaps buy more things at the Uffizi's gift shop than you should; but how can you not?

You send off postcards to Artemis—Artemisia Gentileschi's _Judith and Holofernes_ —and Alfred—Raphael’s _Madonna del Cardellino_ —as well as spend a good chunk of cash for shipping souvenirs and whatever else you don't want to keep on you back to Gotham.

You do also allow yourself one night on Florence's rooftops. Terra cotta tiles are an interesting challenge, one you enjoy.

Perhaps on that same later trip to Rome, you'll come back to Florence too, maybe go see other parts of Italy. Even if it is hotter than you'd like here than it was in Berlin and Warsaw.

As much as you want to stay, you eventually have to leave. Heading north this time, back to slightly cooler climes.

-

Dick finds you in Paris. You’re more relieved it’s him than angry that someone found you. Granted, he’s one of the few people you’ve been talking to since you ran off, but you’ve been careful to scrub your data like Bruce taught you so he doesn’t know where you are. He gives you a wan smile as he sits across from you. The waitress hurries over and you watch as he does that effortless not-quite-flirting with her before ordering a coffee. When she leaves, he turns his attention back to you. “Hey, Little Wing.”

“Hey, Dick.” You hold back on the urge to lash out at him. He didn’t know and doesn’t deserve that. “How’d you find me?” The only people who know where you are are Artemis, who’d sworn not to tell anyone, and Alfred.

The smile on his face grows a hair amused. “How’d you think?  Bruce’s been keeping tabs on you since you left.”

“So what?” _Now_ you let some of the anger out, the sneer feeling good. “He send you here?”

“What? No!” Dick’s hand shoots out, pinning yours to the table. “He probably knows I’m here but he’s decided for the time being to leave you alone. I’m just worried about you, Jason. I’d feel better about you dealing with this if you were with the Titans.”

The anger doesn’t recede, but it does cool. You know Dick’s a good liar when he needs to be, but he sucks at it when it comes to people he cares about. “Does he know about the suit?” It’s Bruce Wayne, he _has_ to know you took Robin with you. Maybe even knows you’ve been out a few times.

“He knows,” Dick confirms. “Part of why I’m concerned Jason. You have the right to be angry, but you shouldn’t take that out with you. Not without someone to watch your back and make sure you don’t hurt yourself, let alone others.” His fingers squeeze around yours. “Come on. The Jet’s got enough fuel to get you to San Francisco and me back to Gotham.”

Turning your hand over you squeeze back, but you also shake your head. “I need more time, Dick. I need to let myself be angry. If I go to the Titans…” You shake your head. “Just, give me another week, I promise.” You need to cling to the bitterness and anger, let yourself mourn fully before you go about starting to heal. Your flight back to Gotham’s in one week anyways; it only remains to be seen if you _stay_ in Gotham or not. Good to know you’ve got somewhere to fall back on should it come to it. "If I can't stand being in Gotham still, I'll go to the Tower instead of coming back to romp around Europe some more." You find yourself smiling despite attempting to be serious.

His smile turns wan again. “Alright.” He exhales slowly. “I don’t like it, but fine. I’m holding you to that promise though. One week.” He waggles a finger at you. “You skip on that check and I’m gonna drag you there myself, cursing your ass while I’m at it.”

When the waitress returns with Dick’s coffee you’re laughing. “I don’t know what you’ve got against my ass, Dick,” you manage to get out. “Worried it might be more perfect than yours?”

Dick chokes on his first sip and you snigger. This time he only points his finger. “You,” his voice sounds a little raspy. “Are the worst little brother. Also you speak blasphemy,” his tone turns haughty.

You just roll your eyes and smile.

-

There's a hecticness to London that you haven't seemed to find in any other city. It's as busy as Paris or Berlin had been, it's probably just as old as Paris too, so it's not the weight of the years that stands out to you. It's just the...energy of it all. It’s also beastly hot for late July, a surprise you weren’t expecting considering the latitude.

As before, there're seas of tourists here, just as easy to hide in them here. Although, you don't spend your whole time bouncing from museum to museum, doing a fair share of wandering, seeing where your feet take you.

During one such ambling, you come across an antique bookstore. Interest instantly captured, you enter, breathing in the wondrous scent of old books and leather.

"Can I help you find anything sir?" The woman behind the counter is neatly dressed, vibrant suit contrasting against dark skin.

You smile. "I think I'll just be looking for now." An idea flits across your mind. "Actually where're your first editions?" So far, the souvenirs you've been sending back—if Bruce already knows where you are, as much as it smarts, then there's not much point in waiting until you get back to give them out—have been small things. But you're sure you'll find something perfect for Alfred here.

The woman steps out from the counter. "Right this way." As you follow, you realize one of her legs is a prosthetic, whatever it's made out of has a print to make it look like old book spines. It brings an unexpected smile to your face. "This is where we keep our less rare firsts, if you want to see the rarer ones it's a bit more of an involved process."

You bet. "This is good for now. Thanks."

"Of course," she smiles. "If you need anything, just holler."

Your attention goes to the books as she walks off. Gently, you run your fingers against the spines as you walk down the aisles. The right book'll jump out at you when it's good and ready. Right now it's just nice to be surrounded by a different sort of history.

Your second walk through, you find it. The yellow leather's fairly plain, but the black stamping of the title and author make it stand out more. Carefully, you pull it off the shelf. The smell as you open it brings you back, sitting in the library, swapping books with Alfred.

The title page stare back at you for a moment. _Edwin Drood_ by Charles Dickens, a little cameo drawing of Edwin is below, below that in even smaller print is the name of the illustrator for this volume.

You spend some time flipping through the gilt-edged pages, but your mind's already made up.

The woman smiles as you bring it to the counter. "Dickens, excellent choice."

"It'll probably do less damage to my spending money than Shakespeare," Maybe you should've looked for Moliere though, Alfred enjoyed him too.

"That it does," the woman laughs. "In this case, your damage is a hundred and fifty pounds. Would you like it wrapped up?"

Opening your wallet, you pull out two hundred pounds. "Yes please. Uh, I'll probably be mailing it overseas, so I don't know if there's anything special that needs done for that." She hands you your change and you put your wallet away.

"None that I know of, but that's a question best asked of the post, I think." She smiles as she pulls out a silver paper with brocade print. "I hope whomever receives it appreciates it, though."

You find yourself smiling back. "He will." It might be the _Wayne_ family library, but everyone knows it's one of Alfred's pet projects. It will be fun to see what new books he's brought in since you've been gone.

She finishes wrapping the book and puts it in a bag for you. "Here you are then. Have a nice day."

"You, too," you call out as you head for the door. Next stop, the post office.

-

Running across the roofs of London reminds you some of Paris, in that they both have centuries of history apparently thrown together for the fun of it. You can guess what century you’re in by the sound of your feet on the roof, this sound modern, this Victorian, this one Elizabethan. It brings out a different sort of love than the one you feel for Gotham.

Even with all the fun you’re having, you’re being a bit more circumspect here than you’ve been in other places. Mainly because London already has her own hero, and you don’t want to step on any toes. Although, part of you thinks it might be fun to track down Squire and see if she’d be interested in tag or some other silly game.

You hold off on that though. Maybe one day you’ll be back in London under more...official circumstances and you two can goof off then. For now, you’re nothing more than a brightly colored shadow, ghosting through the night. It’s a good test of your stealth skills, getting around the rooftops without _anyone_ spotting you. The fun sort of test even.

Eventually the night comes to an end, and you make it back to your hotel, sneaking in through the window and remembering to close the curtains behind you before undressing. A quick shower, and you fall into the bed and sleep.

-

It’s your last full day in London—tomorrow by the early afternoon you’ll be on the train north to Glasgow—and you intend to make the most of it. You take a lot of pictures and perhaps do some of the more stereotypically tourist things, but that doesn’t stop you from enjoying them.

You relax in your seat as you finish a high tea that might be better than Alfred’s—not that you’ll ever tell him that. Once you’re able to get out of your seat, you’re sure you’ll be able to go to the counter and buy some of the amazing tea—more for yourself than Alfred. This whole trip’s been fun and you’ll be sad when it’s over in a few days. It doesn’t feel like you’ve been away from Gotham for almost a month, but you have.

It’ll be nice to go home, even with all the stuff you’ll have to deal with.

There’s a buzz in your pocket that distracts you from your thoughts. Pulling out your phone, you see it’s a text from Bruce—you disabled message previews when you started this trip and haven’t bothered switching back. It’s perhaps petty of you, but you decide to ignore it, putting your phone on mute. You’ve still got three days and you’re going to make the most of them.

-

Just like the rest of the day, you make the most of the night, your last rooftop run. You don’t exactly go all out, but you’re not as cautious as you’ve been before, even going so far to scale the Clock Tower. London’s a glittering reflection of the stars above it and you smile at all of it. Pulling your eyes away from the city, you look up at what few stars you can see.

“‘Second to the right, and straight on till morning.” That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to the Neverland;” you begin to quote, “but even birds, carrying maps and consulting them at windy corners, could not have sighted it with these instructions. Peter, you see, just said anything that came into his head.”

Just like the story says, you can’t even spot where the road to Neverland might begin. That’s fine though, you think as you leap off the Clock Tower, it’s a bit further than you’re willing to go.

There’s the familiar jerk through your body as your decel cable tightens, as you swing your smile grows. You land on a modern roof and let your body run. As you move, you do your best to commit everything to memory. It’s your last night as Robin for a while, and you want to remember _everything_.

It’s perhaps cliche, but a scream really does cut through the night. You don’t even think before running towards it. You don’t, however, throw yourself into the fray right away, taking a few seconds to see what you’re dealing with.

Two big men, menacing a much scrawnier looking man. They’re backing him more and more towards a corner, which gives you plenty of room to sneak up behind them.

You drop like a penny, although no one hears you. Which won’t do at all. A sharp whistle draws both men’s attentions and you grin. “Hey, pick on someone your own size.”

The bafflement on their faces is worth them charging you angrily a few second later. Neither of them have guns thankfully, although knives aren’t a walk in the park when it comes to a fight. Just something less to worry about.

You make short work of them, though they don’t go down easily. Running over rooftops isn’t anything like a fight, and you find yourself breathing heavily by the end of it. Turning, you open your mouth to ask if the third man’s alright. Except he’s not there. What? “Hello?” You take a few steps closer to where he used to be. Maybe he just ran off, you’ve just never liked it, always wanting to make sure the people you help are alright.

You hear footsteps behind you, but before you can whirl around arms grab you and a white cloth’s place over your mouth and nose.

“Hey,” an all to familiar voice speaks up. You struggle, even knowing how hopeless it is. “Does this smell like chloroform to you?”

As you pass out the last thing you hear is the Joker’s laughter.

-

Consciousness comes slowly to you. Once you're aware enough on the other hand, you do your best to feign _un_ consciousness, all the more time to figure out where you are and how you're going to get out of this clusterfuck.

Keeping your eyes closed, you listen. The Joker's voice is unmistakable, and the two other voices talking with him sound familiar. The two men who'd been 'harrassing' the Joker—of course the whole thing was a fucking set up. You fight back the anger; it'll be useful later but right now it's only a distraction. Their voices don't have much echo, so either the place is small or is oddly shaped enough that echoes don't last long.

Wherever you are is cold, feels like cement under you. Your fingers and toes can move unimpeded, you're absently not pleased that your shoes and gloves are gone—you can feel your mask though, which is a strange relief. The handcuffs on your wrists and ankles won't be much of a problem, especially since you can still feel the weight of your belt. It's all just a matter of planning. You've escaped worse than the Joker.

Slowly you open your eyes, keeping them half-closed just in case. The place is...well it looks like some abandoned Christmas store, what little lighting there is casts eerie shadows on the decorations and ornaments that still remain on their shelves. You don't even bother to wonder why the Joker brought you _here_ , it probably won't make sense, even if you asked him.

Your search also reveals that the Joker and his goons aren't nearby, which is good. Not so good is the circle of shattered glass ornaments—they’re all green ones, you find yourself noting—you're inside. The line's deep enough that you won't be able to jump over _all_ of it, and it'd take time to clear enough of a path to get out—time you're not sure you have. So getting out will hurt, but you can do it.

Stretching your fingers you twist your wrists so that they can grab the lid of a pouch. Wiggling your hips hikes the belt higher up, enough for you to get better purchase. Lockpicks are...two pouches away.

The snap of the pouch opening is covered by the sounds of footsteps approaching. You make your body go limp, eyes half closed again as you watch the Joker approach.

His shoe nudges your shoulder. "Wakey wakey eggs and bacey, birdbrain." He swings the crowbar in his hands lightly, which doesn't stop it from hurting when it hits your thigh. It hurts enough to punch a gasp out of you. Damn. "Ha! Knew you were faking it. Come on, boy blunder!" A gloved hand weaves through your hair and pulls you up. The sensation's sharper than it should be, and it takes your brain a moment to realize it's because your wig's gone. Shit. "Batsy's on his way and we've got to get his card all nice and ready for him!"

"Fuck you, Joker." There's no use in playing possum anymore. You hope he can tell you're glaring at him through the mask.

The Joker tuts. "The other Robin didn't have such a mouth on him, Batman's standards must be slipping." He gives a sad shake of his head as he lets you go. When you hit the cement you do your best to roll away, but you feel his shoes step onto your cape, pinning you down. "I miss the good ol' days, you know?"

He steps away, but this time before you get the chance to move that crowbar hits your spine, the pain bright and blazing. You don't fight the pain, but you do grit your teeth against the noises you want to make. You're not going to give the Joker that satisfaction.

"But hey," he hits you again. "Things change, I get that. That's what this is all about really. Me pre-empting that next round of change. Bats is gonna love it!" He cackles and the crowbar hits again.

Your body rolls away on its own, stopped only when you feel glass pierce your bicep. "Ah, ah, ah." You hear crunching as the Joker walks through the glass. "It's no fun if you try to fly away." He rolls you back into the center, you’re face up now. You're not sure if that makes it worse or better, to see the swings coming.

He gives a particularly energetic swing to your calf and a different sort of pain fills you as you feel your tibia break. Despite your best efforts a strangled grunt leaves you. The Joker's laugh in response is bright. "So stoic. Just like your dear ol' not-dad, eh?"

Before you can even think to answer, not that that's hard what with all the pain flooding your brain, he starts going at your torso and chest. "Let's see how well a game of musical rib bones goes."

Five broken ribs, and what you're pretty sure is a punctured lung—it fits the symptoms you've been taught—later the Joker crouches, a frown on his face. "You know, I thought being the impetus of change, for a change," he laughs. "Would be fun. But you're just so _depressing,_ boy blunder. I guess that's why you're the card, not the gift."

He bounces upright. "Gotta finish quick or I'll miss my flight!" He swings and gets your face this time, and you white out from the pain. When you come back, your mouth's filled with blood and something else. Rolling hurts, but you still do it. The Joker politely waits while you hack up blood and two and a half teeth.

More hits, more broken bones, and maybe a ruptured organ or two. Your brain's so focused on the pain that you don't even notice when the Joker's stopped hitting you. It's him humming Christmas carols that first makes you aware of it.

A good chunk of you has disassociated from the pain, which is good in that you can _think_ again, in a way. On the other hand, even if you _want_ to do something you're not sure you'll be able to, you've got at least twenty broken bones and who knows what other damage the Joker did to you.

“Hmmm...Happy, or Merry? So hard to tell which way...” The Joker goes on, but you find the pain pulling you under, making it hard to focus on the outside world.

"...And Joker got away, ha!" Something wooden hits the ground and you can hear the Joker approaching again. "You know," he crouches next to you again. His face takes up what little field of vision you've got left. "I was hoping you'd bleed enough that I could leave my message in blood. How festive would _that_ have been!" The Joker sighs. "But you were a selfish little brat and kept it all to yourself. It's a good thing I had Punch and Judy get me some paint then, no way am I going to let this card be less than perfect." He pats your face, which jostles your broken jaw.

A whimper leaves you and the Joker grins. "I'd say it's been fun, blue bird, but well. It hasn't!" He cackles. "Here's hoping whatever new bird Bats brings in is more fun."

 _Thwap, thwap_ , the now all to familiar sound of the Joker tapping the crowbar against his leg. You know why he won’t stop, but there’s a childish part of you that wishes he would. You’ve been beaten, your whole body testament to that fact. "Oh, now that it's here, I can't decide!" The worst thing is, the petulant agony in the Joker's voice is real. Why can’t he just leave it at this? "So many ways you could go, boy blunder! Too many to choose from!"

"Boss," one of the goons. He sounds nervous.

"Oh, alright."

Everything goes bright and dark as he hits your head again, skull shattering even more.

"Tell the old fart I said: 'Merry Christmas!'"

You float. Pain is a constant murmur, like waves against a boat. That part of you broken from all the rest points out you're dying. It feels a lot like stating the obvious, but there's another part of you, one that sounds a lot like Robin, whispering a constant 'get out, get out, get out. Batman's almost here, he'll make it better.'

There is no getting better this time though. No way for you to claw your way back from it.

Jason Pond will die in an abandoned Christmas store in London and that's that.

In a way, it dredges up all the anger in you. How _dare_ the Joker do this to you, when you had so much left in your life. Finding your family, holidays with your friends, the rest of high school and college. All your friends and other family. You'll never get to see Dick, or Alfred, or Artemis, or anyone else again.

You wonder what your statue in the Titan's Tower will look like.

Distantly you hear a bang like a gunshot. "Robin?" Familiar pounding feet as Batman runs. "Robin?" Even the floaty parts of you want to laugh, not in a good way though.

Pounding feet freeze and Batman gives a choked sob. "Jason."

There's no pain as he picks you up, proof positive that you're dying. You wish you could say something. Maybe that you're sorry, or that you understand, a little. Speech is beyond you, though. You're not sure you can even smile.

You're floating further away now, yet you can still feel Batman's tears on your face. Robin aches, and Jason sighs. There's a brightness rushing towards you, and you find you welcome it.

The last things you remember are a blinding golden light and a woman speaking to you. _“Have some fun this time, alright, kiddo?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hands out tissues*
> 
> Unfortunately part two is still a work in progress. I've hit something of a wall, and Marie's dealing w/ personal stuff, so neither of us have really gotten back on the bandwagon recently. Hopefully I'll have it done by the end of the year (even more hopefully sooner than that), and can start posting it.
> 
> Until then, thanks for reading this weird fic of mine, and hope to see you around!

**Author's Note:**

> If you've got questions (or just want to talk) you're welcome to pop over to [my writing tumblr](https://kaelsmiscellany.tumblr.com/) and send me an ask.
> 
> In the meantime I've got a fanmix for this fic [you can listen to](https://open.spotify.com/user/kaelstrom3/playlist/7gRZ9kyZAIWbmTe8dyjFUq?si=Gh7qhNczTYOxj8BnOGrQjw) (although it could be warned for general spoilers for the story, if you're worried about that sort of thing)


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